Pergola


she stood embellished a
checkerboard of hot
light and cool shadows
crisscrossing her face
she stood allowed coy
breezes to swish her
honey blonde bangs
framing her face
she stood enchanted  by
South American vines
clamoring to adorn her
magenta blazon soul

Pamela A. Rossow

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10 thoughts on “Pergola”

  1. I can see her standing near the South American vines, the light and darkness making patterns across her face, the breeze playing with her hair. There is something mysterious about the way she waits, carefully noting any changes around her as if she’s anticipating a visitor.

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