Abstract Poetry

Sarah Wilson's PoetryWho?Whose memories are home made preservessweet and tartwith a taste of sublime wisdom?The surprise of one unlikely word touching anotherIn shades of golden rust and bluesSarah's poetry owl crys at night tearing silence asundershocking and beguiling us with taboos.Her small town people really take the cake.Pictures and words are infused in our mind with her torchas we wend our way down to her dock on the lake.Her captain is not by the boat but sitting quietly on the porch.Sarah offers us tea in a most genteel way and thensails us on a wind so swift we are balloons in a Nor'eastercatching a branch to linger and watch the stranger than fictionbefore we're swept awayinto another dayof expected surprise.