Faces Dreaming of Nature
by Jacqueline Jones

What were you going to say?
It feels like tiny gardens
Growing in the hair.

My shoulders crazy paving
No one argued.
They always let this one tread air,
Like a kestrel
Unburdened her and her
Sisters dreaming of nature.

She met bare faced liars,
But none could reach her,
They tried to slip
Into her milk white robes
In the mornings.
But that was just the mystery of her,
Well they wanted
A typical woman didn’t they,
She slipped away
On the footsteps of a slight breeze,
Easily swayed, this one.
She left them and their maps
Fluttering like white flags in the breeze.

Beginnings of spring
Turn right for Mozart
Left under a lead cloud for Beethoven,
Say those words big sis
They said to her
Like the scent of innumerable petals
Or the frenzied prayers to science
She got to the corridor thumbs up!
There was a light there
At the end of the corridor
She was on her back,
Dreaming of nature.


Jacqueline Jones 2004