What rivers seep through limestone
in rivers
underground --
carving elegant caverns,
clear artesian wells? Madness in you

once echoed
through my soul.
As if poi-
son my face
began to

swell, painful
stranger mir-
roring de-sire. I see
in my child

as the wing--
name, woman,
ing my own
to sing, Nam-
Now I dare

in the wind.
like playing
open, bird-
I once bore--
such love as

Jacque Vaught Brogan

read the author's Bio and Working Notes

go to :Escape From Hungary

go to this issue's table of contents