She kneels
And the black pleats float.
She sits—
My heart a sinking boat.
She stands
And stretches—oh—the flirt!
Walks on
—tugging at the corner of her skirt!
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About Me
- Dan Goorevitch
- There is no activity more noble, more vital, more necessary than wrestling with one's self. That is what poetry is for me. Like Jacob wrestling with himself, the prize is the blessing of life. Woman is the crown which makes man king. Please read my poem "Sheep Shearing." It's the key.
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