Desert Dreamtime

Moriah LaChapell's poem Her Perfume appeared here in February 2011.

Desert Dreamtime
By Moriah LaChapell

Lying
in a pink bed
I hear the call
of a desert owl
soft and low
on a blue velvet
evening.

On such a night
dreams are sacred
and memories
remain lucid
long after
the years pass
and the walls
are painted white
when the brunette
beauty goes to college.



 

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