Women Singing




You, your all

is in your giving,

your wisdom

in the brass veins

of your voice.


To touch you

is to shiver

in a field of yesterdays

with women singing

this is how I have loved,

their voices melting

in a cauldron

of blacksmith fire.


With milk then

they give of their children,

their songs carrying

out of time

into the true spaces

of savage dawn.








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