A Yankee's Musing

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

if secrets are not spoken, will they silence a woman forever?

she holds her life source close
like a seed
nourished by pine fed duff
able to root anywhere

she holds her belongs safe
in a knapsack
slung on her back
journals and black pens
survival gear

she carries her seeds of life
on the tip of a black gel pen
strokes the pages chock-full
seals the covers
rarely shared

are secrets lies?


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