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Susan Thompson ~ Pickens

Susan Thompson ~ Pickens

Her long body in the spangled shade of the wood
was a swimmer moving through a pool:
fractal, finned by leaf and light;
the loose plates of lozenge and rhombus
wobbling coins of sunlight.
When she stopped, the water stopped,
and the sun re-made her as a tree,
banded and freckled and foxed.

Besieged by symmetries, condemned
to these patterns of love and loss,
I stare at the wet shape on the tiles
till it fades; when she came and sat next to me
after her swim and walked away
back to the trees, she left a dark butterfly.

Swimming in the Woods by Robin Robertson (thanks Daily Dish)

Happy Sunday.

And a little guitar music, my tied-for-first-place favorite guitar piece in the world …

Embryonic Journey by the Jefferson Airplane