“Magic Frog Dreams” (Tracy Anderson)

Ravished women glean, restoring
with ritual gifts and daily wonders.
Their footsteps fade, youth retreats,
walking ways of spices and sweets
that birth young, thirsty thoughts.

Ripened fruits glow, reflecting
from crystal jars and tainted bottles.
Their faces masked, wishes trap,
reading riddles from circled scraps
that bear fat, lengthy lists.

Restless bodies groan, reforming
with magic potions and packaged charms.
Their fingers laced, helpless wings,
knitting the knots in spelled up strings
that bind deep set desires.

Ring bound fingers grasp, resenting
as each basket fills and cart hollows.
Their reach expands, egos shrink,
buying the brews for city sinks
that blanch country cauldrons.

Renewed families grow, redeeming
in proven tests of magic frog dreams.
Their duties cool, flames embark,
feeding little fires with steady sparks
that beg incantatious shopping.


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