White, Red, Black

My Athena sight

Unfolds glowing blossoms,

Traces periwinkle songlines

Delicate as my ancestors’ lacework

Across my pearl white arm.

My body is a landscape

Of rolling hills

Shrouded in a veil of fog

A slender silver birch

Rooted to the same

Moss-covered Earth

That contains my father’s ashes.


A circle of Moon-bone



A golden hope-spark

Transforms the ashes into flames


Until they die

Leaving charred remnants of a

Once full life


This cycle



This is a poem from my book, Spinning Hair Into Gold. I will continue to share poems from Spinning Hair Into Gold and new, unpublished poems as part of my project to help inspire those who are quarantined or self-isolating during this Coronavirus pandemic. Share your own poems or excerpts from longer works of writing with the hashtag #truenorthpoetry on Instagram and Twitter. Go gently dear hearts.

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