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.
First
A circle of Moon-bone
White
Next
A golden hope-spark
Transforms the ashes into flames
Red
Until they die
Leaving charred remnants of a
Once full life
Black
This cycle
Eternal
Magic
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 I will continue to share poems from Spinning Hair Into Gold and new, unpublished poems as part of my project to help inspire those who are quarantined or self-isolating during this Coronavirus pandemic.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.

