Who sends her lines

Who sends her lines

Who sends her lines
In golden frames
Of sounds and words and rythym?
Stands naked on these wooded grounds,
Lashed tantric to this easel,
And spread on word -worn palettes
Has served her linen letters?

Who sends her lines
That sand and wind and tides
Can-not erase,
And time once touched;
Vowelled, lined, and wrinkled?

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