The Weavers Knot
Despite the night tousled hair
twas still amber and gold
in the morning
worn long and held loose
in a weavers knot
Far too long to be modest
they said
and she had the way of a witch
about her….
Witches cats familiars and
friends
far too good to be just fucked
tho far too kind for her own good
a white witch maybe….
Then like a cat
without warning
she moved to an old leather chair
still warm from the touch
of some familiar or other…
and that is where she sat through dawn
with ancient quilt held tight
A single hand on view
seen only by her mirror
the other she imagined might
just be him
at least she hoped it might…
Despite the night tousled hair
Twas still amber and gold
In the morning
worn long and held loose
in a weavers knot
and she tasted of honey and sea….