Unlined Poem by Arika Lloyd

The roots of the day
tear open between her feet
twisting up, over
the first pink stones.

Tracing the path
above time and place,
between the lines and halos
of dreams and yesterday.

The arms of the sun ripen
across the lawn of afternoon.
Leaves uncurl, seducing a shadow
under the orange blossom.

Fragrance opens her palm.
Breath waits, the wind stirs,
and a moment returns
to its infinite place.

Branches yield
to the vase of night.
Where the roses are open,
and the tassels have fallen.