[Soaring Feather]

Oh you Autumn lass
how the lovely white
of fresh falling snow
can brighten a dreary
December day.

The cold crisp of
winters wind clears
the head for a moment
then memory goes retro
on me and I remember
the happy days of a new love

my love was my breath
and my food for the day
I danced on star spattered
patios alone with the
sweetness of him
left lingering in
my nostrils memory
a sort of homey armoma
clung to your clothes
with a hint of your soap
on your face

Those were the happy days
and now you are thousands
of miles from me and
your memory fades fast
on long dark nights in December.

[Kay Syrah]

We split a clementine
first cut was yours,
the second mine,
and passed to you
and back to me again,
we slowly stripped
its easy skin,
and laid upon the table
the rust of orange coat
so lightly flayed,
and succulent fruit
we bared upon
the hope of shared
delight, a section
for you and one
for me, chins dripping
in sweet delight.
And orderly sections
fell to what we both
desired, and after
all, the zest remained
sweet acrid coat of
what we demanded
of a simple fruit.