By Aurin Squire
Quiet cold morning
spin left out of bed
exhale warmth pouring
from the top of my head
creaky knees, hips sore
stuffed nose blue
reached out for the door
instead of walking, flew
offering bowls overflowing
incense tips red smolder
meditate to know where I'm going
Red Lady appears. I hold Her.
We dance on winds beginningless
Spinning, twirling, vanishing into emptiness.
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