Friday, November 18, 2005

Tribal Women

The drumming begins,
beckoning moonlight,
channeling wind.
Medicine woman squats,
her hands crushing fruit
smearing it on cheeks, breasts, belly
fiercer than any warrior.
The tribal women dance,
stomping, hooting,
hair swinging wild.
Pink tipped breasts breathing their first,
Pregnant bellies, anointed, adorned,
Vein mapped legs stomping.
Teeth bared,
eyes crying,
the dance goes on.
Spinning dervishes,
twirling by fire,
lit by stars,
the ululations rise.
Wolves tuck their tales
with longing.

Copyright 2005.


Blogger Jod{i} said...

Your posts are just perfect for this time Cynthia.
Even though I still may be undecided of where I shall lay my hat...

Still around!

November 18, 2005 1:38 PM  
Blogger Virginia said...


November 18, 2005 8:47 PM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home