poetry and prose about place

dressing in black

with 4 comments

on this wintry day …





in black


down the middle

of the street

oblivious to traffic


dark mists

and Avalon

the perfect rupture of sky


from her fingers

black threads

spin skirt

and widow’s weeds


black painted nails

blackened sockets of eye

her lips black also

from a feast of berries




Copyright  2000  Jane Tims

Written by jane tims

January 31, 2014 at 11:04 am

Posted in beyond the surface

Tagged with , ,

4 Responses

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  1. Ah, yes, looking forward to a feast of berries come summer!


    Barbara Rodgers

    February 5, 2014 at 11:08 am

  2. Beautiful, Jane. Your poem goes so well with your photos, especially the first, the trees in black.



    January 31, 2014 at 11:50 am

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