Braided

By Carol Brandt












Silken sheaves shimmer in soft shades of silver
Crossing and winding the length of her back
There from behind a wee lass from Glen Ilva
Hair flying carefree from fifteen years back
Glossy and glowing, the mass of her tresses
Tumbles well south of the waist of her dresses
Once intertwined with the shrine of his fingers
Now interlaced with the memory that lingers
Marking the moment their bodies surrendered
Wickedly winding and wantonly blended

© Carol Brandt 2007