Sun bakes distant sadness cold;
we turn empty bottles on their side
to feel Elixir roll over a dry tongue,
pacing our next collective inhale
with the return of Goddess moon.

[next poem]
[words] [menu] [mail]
[back a poem]

Thank you Rj (Tomcat) for the wonderful
graphic! *blows a kiss*

©Denise Angela Celeste, 1997.