for Loreena
You
wore wine
I wore green.
Incandescent
sky, mint-blue grasses
joined; one inspiration,
one chalice. You lured me through
a portal to your history.
Senses overwhelmed with mandolin
and harp. Moons crescent by standing
stones; spirits gather, relieved,
I am returned. Concrete
shadows have gone soft.
No mists on the
rolling hills,
remain
still.
© Catherine Woods 1998, 2018
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