What comments on 'Celtic Mother, Winter's Crone' poem?
In the time of dead leaves,
when wide-eyed things
frowned at sound,
and snow fell through fog,
a red berry circlet
crowned her hair.
When hunger stilled infants
and frost shrouded ancients,
wrinkled laughter dappled
forests, glades, fens.
Her talons clawed
life through death,
veil through veil.
Mother. Hag. Virgin whore.
Giver, taker, wise before
In the time of black robes,
when men killed
for one mouth of meat,
she walked naked
on frozen fields,
and the earth
Mother. Midwife. Woman.
She was breathtaking.
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Comments about this poem (............................Celtic Mother by elysabeth faslund )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 July 1870 – 16 July 1953)
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