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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4485 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention The Badlands of the Enchantress Vienna (Carole Barley) We carry the spells of the wind in our hair, blazed with sunpaint and altitude wild. Here lie the pages of gold green ancientness, each vista a page, curling away until the words fall off the cobalt edge. It has been too long since I stroked the fine lines of these bones, clean edged, fluted, grown deeply strong on scarce herbage, whispered to be feral. I find the beat, the blood, find salt and seek water; merest suggestion draws me to the one well, font of these cloud slid shadowlands. We drink, devour; as savage as the sun , burning demons, fashioning feathers from the northern trades. The stones heat and cool; mute, untouched since forever, the sorceress sings and knowledge in Cambrian fragments dust the places where we touch and break apart…. Potions and charms lie under our tongues Green, gold, Sabled into sundowns. |
