Friday, April 05, 2013

She was classical

She was classical
The type to travel
To palaces in Crete
And finding string
Would ravel up the far end
Winding further in
Willingly where others dread
Lifeline spooled upon a bobbin
In a maze that monsters tread.
She would make a fate to speak of
With Theseus, the Bull
Or both
Live at least one more moment to the full
A flower in her youth.

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