blog description

Old women talk about old things: history, myth, magic and their
checkered pasts, about what changes and what does not.

Friday, November 9, 2012

To A Scorpio



Oblique rays shine from her eyes
Of a thousand years--pure child.
Many cycles past, an autumnal lady watched
The breakers boom like iron upon Atlantic cliffs—
Her glances a falcon endlessly falling.
Breathless, see how fast she flies!
Lady in a cloak of November,
Magic slinks around you.
--Juliet Waldron

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