She Rises

In the virgin breast of morning she rises
Quiet in a house still sleeping
Dips each white foot overboard
Off her bed
Wiggles each toe individual
As though recalling their names
Trip, trip, She rises
Fawn touching on vegetation carpet
Trip trip, down the hallway
To preen with determined regularity
Bathe under the gaze of mirrors
Who turn their backs
Made shy by an innocent display
She leans She whispers
A secret so precious
strong men would spend their lives dreaming
so small it flutters to the floor
Trip, trip, trod under foot
She bounds outdoors
Still trailing steam


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: