Something woke me, six and change, the face of the Christmas moon as it shivered on the pool and through the crystals hanging on the high deck. There were small rainbows flitting all over my bedroom.
I went out like I used to every full moon and took my cards with me. Always, there is one card that presents, either falls or is back-to or you draw it. It was she/I washed in brilliance.
2 comments:
wands doing
A beautiful photograph, and a potent memory in cloth and word.
I'm thinking I might have to take up the tarot again.
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