following immense stone steps up to the riverwalk alley
windswept and receptive I am seeking oracles
as spirits lift the moss covered branches
catalysts arriving from Bonaventure Cemetery
whispering to me that these wrongs will be put right
a bouquet of palm roses for the downtrodden


desire floods my being as I navigate cobblestone pathways
imagining a blue topaz treasure hidden in oak-lined glades
like Savannah presented as a Christmas gift to Lincoln
Sherman’s telegram streaming from Madison Square
intricate wrought iron curves forming an intimate engagement
Gothic Revival follows this tempestuous hour
nine arched windows appear, signifiers of divine love


he dances his terrible contortions, sneers
compassion withers in a furnace of shame
I resist the way that never requires self-sacrifice
screams haunt: only disastrous manifestations are possible
Psyche confronts and demands confidence
assures me obstacles, great choking vines, will be cut away


despite fear and bewilderment, what remains unsaid,
terricolous vulnerability, dissolution, confusion
the difficulty of the choices I’ve made
I remain open to unexpected possibilities
good omens, the golden bough, creative forces unfurling

High Priestess

again she calls my name, entwining within the heart of the city,
to awareness of what spirits move against me
spreading insecurity and dependence on material concerns
only the heroine that follows her instincts can prevail
who entrusts herself to that which is transcendent

Hanged Man

acknowledging passage from this phase of life
sterile, sublimated to an ideal, an escape from the harrowing past
now I must let go of people entangled for amorphous reasons
crossroads require discernment and dedication to truth
destiny manifests, all philosophical resistance is overwhelmed
Savannah serenade, your mystic secrets coax my surrender