Blue September….

When distance is hard to judge,

Flesh becomes ethereal,

Transparent, blue.

The air has a liquid quality….

Movement a buoyant heaviness.

There is pressure from everywhere,

An undulating gravity.

The trudging of Agawela has sedate grace,

And tears become lost in the falling darkness.

I drink Blue September of the Sapphire Night.

ⓒ Bearspawprint 2013

Agawela = Old Woman