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s e v e n p o e m s i n h e b r e w |
r a c h e l e s h e d |
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Rain and Deceit
waits for her, sad and circumspect as her childhood cypress growing in the courtyard of the house, he offers her a home. Her docile voice tells her to enter, her inner voice, she need only choose, to soar on a cloud as transparent as a lie in the corner of her eye. She can truly believe in this; she invests the better part of her power in this; puzzling ruses struggle to come out, as at a parting hour she learned to prolong and cut short, in the depths of her delusion. ______________________________
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