Nomad woman dressed in

ancestral lace,

dance.

Turquoise and onyx

decorate your

clavicle.

Bedeck the campground fire.

Red dirt and black ash.

Crackling, silver charms

lay across your

breasts and waist.

Poured into your womb

a traditional death,

bearing a crystal fall.

Sway to your feet, undulate,

stir from your ashes and spit.

Wet the men who use and abuse.

Too, too beautiful my glory girl.

For their urgings of smoked

sausages and disgrace.

Tell me mortal goddess,

what can you see? Do

you see it, will you?

Shine your light, sing

your songs of love for

one the one coming

to free you.

Silence!

© Janet Caldwell 2004-2010

Photo from Googe Images