(Poem by Wendy Howe ) The tropical air is wireless, communication voiced through sparrow song or wind, some personal dreaming. Sun steams the stone balcony and casts out two spirits from the young woman lounging there. Her worries about work and marriage are banished to the other side of the island haunting a Basalt tomb. Relaxed, she allows her arched leg to frame a blue niche of sky -- Saint Lucia breathes a soft amen. To know more about this poem, about Wendy Howe All Images & Poems (En) ![]() Free DHTML scripts provided by |
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