A quick update, and of fortune

I’m still here, and still mulling the cosmos.

I’ve just been busy with a family visit and some other issues that have kept me from formulating decent blog entries for public consumption.

At any rate, I’ll leave you with a poem I wrote in December 1998 called “Of fortune.”
———————-
a wheel
edged
spokes steel and fast
metallic crank and squeal
of each foot tread of each
cold path long and shining
like a sheet of metal
that is the wheel of our hands
of our fashion

another sways slow
and stays in place
inefficient in its clockwork
woven of dogwood
of dirt, of pine
a snow spoke
a rain bolt
there is no word
but a fall
into the black and beautiful

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About whitecatgrove

The musings of a Druid priestess, singer, poet and musician in Upstate New York.
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