From 'The Wind in her Daughtership's Majesty'

The wind is my mascot

I shall not want

 

But even the wind

Is owned by names

 

And struggles against its hand

 

 

 

                                              wind  wind

 

                                              the wind so high

 

           rain keeps traveling

 

          through the sky

 

            so fine               so pretty

 

            She’s the girl from the golden city

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Los Angeles, Heliopolis, Gold Rush lands of San Francisco

 

 

Willa and Clio and Emma and Zara and Sara

 

 

                   in a line in a row in a clutch

 

 

Gonca, Siarita, Helen, Angelakis, Eleni, Evangelia, Tatiani

 

 

Athens, Istanbul, Barcelona

 

 

Rosa, Carolina, Charlotte, Seline, Lucinda, Vasiliaki

 

 

line them up mix them up

 

 

wind   the wind

     

          The snow comes scattering

 

from the sky

 

 

in mourning or just likes black

on the prowl or just likes cleavage

 

making it up as they go along

picking through the debris to make temporary deals

 

 

How can they know they daunt

in their bright efficiency

raise fear in those fumbling to get closer

 

 

Do I or don’t I will I won’t I

rolling the dice and

watching the watchers as they promenade

 

 

 

Helen Sonja Olivia Petra Caitlina

struggling against the hand of their wind

But we wouldn’t call it that  

they say

 

 

 

 

What’s in a girl sugar eyes

yes she could might or would

 

With my heavy watch on I

take my Father’s pulse

 

turn to deflect

the protagonist’s punch