Whole in the Big O
©2000 by Carol Marie
The moon spiraled across a continuum
left vacant by the unanswered metaphors
she left for the East Coast and Im lonely
while she works and I hunt for a means
Its ebony where I stand in the shade
left over from some old oaken chant
the faerie rings of yesterday a haven
for the weary traveler who sits beside the brook
to pass the idleness away
My heart is filled with longing, it she who I desire
to run her fingers through my mass of curling gray
and tug tight enough to make me remember
just what it was that brought us whole in the big O
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