Herewith, the latest selection from dusted-off published poetry and short fiction, circa 1970s vintage and beyond....
Evolution
Sometimes
I think I am
the soft fluid mantle
covering
your pliant bones.
I feel my impulse
reverberate in your
cerebration.
Your nearness is
myself at home.
In dreams purple shades
consort and leave
vague memory
of beforetimes.
When I was you
and you inhabited
my shape my spirit.
Time warped a reversal
and in this space
we are each other.
c.1977 Rita Rosenfeld
published in Quest, Spring 1977
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