By John Tustin
Her thighs like oak
Her steps so light
Her eyes like smoke
On a moonless night
An angel fallen
A bird on the rise
A siren calling
Her words all lies
Her thighs like oak
Her steps so light
Her eyes like smoke
On a loveless night
An angel rising
A bird descending
A night beginning
The daylight ending
Her thighs like oak
Her steps so light
Her eyes like smoke
On a godless night
An angel exposed
With choices few
In maudlin repose
Her words all true
John Tustin started writing poetry again eleven years ago after a hiatus just as long and since then has been published in many disparate locations. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.
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