Diaphanous

Rustle wrapped limbs in diaphanous beauty

lay a slender quick foot that barely whispers a crackle

on the moist and crisp decay of long lost plumage, 

Wet earth, sensuous musk, rings of birth and fermentation

as light as a feather 

She is nearly heard but surely felt 

she runs behind you 

ahead of you laughing 

or crying

afraid or causing mischief

Her veil shading your eyes or casting glare 

It’s hard to tell in the changing layers of light

Between the long shadows and bright seams cutting through the fabric.

A poem by Me.

Oil on Italian Canvas 35h x 25w cm    |   13,8h x 9,8w inch

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