Mother
-
By Vivi Sojorhn She was drumming in circles and Was told she must name her spirit hands By spirit or her logical keep A Robin flew luckily to her feet Now she looks every spring for Robin’s stand. 2025(c)Vivi Sojorhn Read more
-
NOVEMBER PANTOUM Under scaffold and stone, dreams rise, Once a scaffolded crone, grey and burned, she barely stood. Locks click into place, bridges sag with unrequited love, Her walls, once crumbling, sing of love reborn. Once a scaffolded crone, grey and burned, she barely stood, Our Lady crowned anew with her sacred art. Read more
possiblissities 