how often I found her
tucked up in hollows
nestled in whorls
amid swirls
she spun
a pinwheel crazed
in gale wind
alighting where she pleased
now she is upright
safe in fluted forms
amid her friends
secure and alee
Chagall 2016
how often I found her
tucked up in hollows
nestled in whorls
amid swirls
she spun
a pinwheel crazed
in gale wind
alighting where she pleased
now she is upright
safe in fluted forms
amid her friends
secure and alee
Chagall 2016
My heart, adept at somersaults,
sticks the perfect landing.
The pain in my knees though tells me that
it’s not that long till fall.
So tape me up
to brace me tight
in time for another go.
Madly to the springboard
without stopping to plant
I soar of my own desire.
I emulate feathers floating
till ground.
To lie there
spying clouds move
up and down as well as left and right.
In motion emotionally always
forever truly yours.
Chagall 2016

I’m caught in the drone
of the tight machines
Elevated to states
of the art
Not about anything
really
Except dogged
blessed arabesque
© Chagall 2014