The Poetry of Alexander Work…”A sculpture worn….”

Stay right there

There, where she can receive herself

Where she can perceive herself

As she is

No judgement, only warm, friendly curiosity

The curiosity that asks a little question,

here and there

We take in the beauty of her form

A sculpture worn by many years of life’s mouldings and brushings

Bumps and blips

The slights and slips that pass in the night

A foot tells a tale of turning in

A curl of an elbow, shrug of a shoulder

A twist, a shallow breath, a chewed lip

How are you doing?

A whisper of smoke drifts in with the question

It coils and spreads, sings and croons, apparently aimless,

yet not so

Be here

A coyote calls on the plain, howls to the moon

and remembers

She settles back a little

Shifts her weight

takes a look around and eases out..

Softens and spreads.

A spell unbound.

She   is   so

Beautiful

Come take a walk

Come home.

© Jenny Quick