RED MUSE POEMS  

By David Eide  

Beauty, a red fire falling past the moon;
full eyes, full of want and delicate mischief. 
Glow of Siren on obscure planets that poets know about.
Form that belongs in Palaces on White Hills
Guarded by armies of those who love her.


Oh Hair, made from forgotten memories
Oh Heart, always mending.




NEXT POEM