Crisp as the evening air floating delicately upon tip and tongue,
Yet, weighing perfectly heavy upon heart and mind.
Clumsy as the evening breeze pressing against brick and stone,
Partially blinded by the dimmed lighting yet still flowing so magically.
Ominous as the evening comes half shielded by an absent sun,
Pure opportunity comes with every badly lighted pun.
Powerful as the moon’s sweet pull whispering through oak and pine to move the earth,
Yet, sweet and kind as that first star granting hope to innocence and naivety.
Powerful and immovable as nighttime falls,
Compassionate and uncontrollable as nature intends.
Full and luscious as the dew covered morning glory,
Delicious and indescribable as a child’s first meal.
Solidity in nature, fluidity in spirit,
Woman by birth.

Mine by choice.


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