Postcard Poem – The Medicine Woman’s Healthcare Plan


My garden

Butterflies flown,
brilliant orange blossoms
faded and dried on brown stems.
Roots pulling the potent sugars
down into dark soil.

In the end,
Esclepias Tuberosa,
with all her hidden
opens her stiff fingers
and sets her medicine free,
casts her bundles of secret
seed-floss to the wind.


photo by Harvey Cotton

photo by Harvey Cotton


Abstraction White Rose postcard

Abstraction White Rose, 1927, Georgia O’Keeffe


About wrensong

I am a poet who collects stones. I am a wanderer of creek beds and forests, canyons and high desert who, coming home, sometimes finds words to tell the story. I am a companion with others in the search for Deep, Wild Soul. I shape containers in time and space for others to come together to write, to tell their stories, to hold each other in the telling. I am a grandmother and the companion of a cat named Alaya. I often travel out into open country with a man who calls himself Dunewalker who has hung his hammock in my heart.
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