by Amy Cavanaugh
I acquire the sensational psychology in me
Which reliably wraps my mind and me
Up in a blissful blanket of yarn –
Hand-knitted by Creativity herself.
The blanket bathes
Us in a glow
Of what light feels like.
My mind and I breathe united as
An inseparable couple.
We gleefully greet each other
Beneath the spotlight of Freedom's moon.
Poems and thoughts are the stars.
And like Freedom's moon
Solitude nearly reaches a curious finger
All the way down to us.
Freedom faithfully follows her
Loyalty like a leader.
Sensuality wears her evening perfume
On Winter's barren brown deck
Like Femininity –
But she does not quite copy her.
The passionate ever-moving flame
Of a smile
In the still fireplace –
Almost silent but not.
Last updated June 17, 2011