Maya

This morning, a goddess
stepped down from heaven,
just upstream of the river bend
where eddies twirl cosmic
visions with solar rays,

dug her heels into the muddy bank.

Lavender scented curls,
long as winter nights,
spilled from the crown of her head,
flowed across bewitching shoulders
against her marigold aura.

I was void cast in shadow.

– Chris Miller

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