DAUGHTER OF THE WILDS
The sky was a splash of orange
and the shadows long-legged
and bordered with quivering gold,
and a silence surged over her
as she felt the centuries unravel
down her spine.
Eggshell memories of nameless ancestors
crept into her unhurried mind
and she met herself in them,
brushed into flickering silhouettes,
fire-dancing in the dying gasps
of the waning day.
The sun’s final glance
released her into loss,
and she turned
and faded into the grieving night,
a world away, at fingertip-touch.
