Trail to a New World
by Karla Linn Merrifield

Lately the lady
in her lichen gown

follows cumulus clouds
beyond the woods

by moonlight out
and over to the line

water makes in the Earth.
She will undress there

on the beach in that silver,
stand naked in the wind

like birch trees in early April.
It is what the Rose Moon

would have her do:
leave the land,

learn the sea,
go dancing draped in kelp

and if she dare, when she dares
dive in, dive down, dwell

with the creatures of the deep.
Thus she will forsake the forest,

shed the leaves and needles' familiar shade
to partake of the great oceanic gyre.

Now is the time;
she will be done.


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