I walk reverently,
footsteps soft as
feathers falling.
I am humbled
by giants, asleep
in Muir Woods.
Solitary sentinels
reach for heaven,
scrape the sky.
End of daylight
tiredly slants,
filters through
canopied roof,
ageless shadows
of God’s cathedral,
illuminating my path.
Overwhelming silence
enraptures me
as angels sing
of God’s gift to man:
the sacred redwood.
Cathedral first appeared in [i]Melange Journal[/i].
phone rings.
he wants me,
I can tell, or
is it those red shoes?
sounds made
by high heels
on reflective,
wooden floors
bedevil him.
I am someone else
in scarlet spikes.
my skirt swirls
freely
in the warm air
surrounding me
like a swarm of honey bees.
my legs, longer
in those red shoes,
belong to a seductress;
a stranger to me.
I am rhythm.
my breasts bounce
upon the off beat.
he is at the door.
my pulse quickens
as I slip on those red shoes,
and one thing leads to another.
