Eusthacia Poem by David McLansky
Eusthacia
Oh where is Eusthacia,
The raven-haired beauty
Flower of the desert,
My Hollywood cutie.
Sad eyed and serious,
Her deep soul in mourning,
A poet of sandstone,
Of dry heat and yearning;
You protect your pale skin
By shunning the sun
You stalk in the twiight,
You pause, then you run
Oh sensuous lady,
Grey clouds mask the moon,
Has your stardom now faded,
Oh recluse of the dunes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 11:40:21 AM # 1.0.0.1119
