Sally Sandler Biography

Yours is not a clear or classic beauty.
Nothing like the leaves of liquidambar,
the flowers of the purple jacaranda,
or stature of the regal redwood tree.
...

The day I knew I'd fallen out of love,
immune to fascination of your spell,
I wasn't rocking with the wind above,
intoxicated drinking in the smell
...

That you could whisper through unseen webs
and care for the earth with a mother's love—
I didn't know, I just didn't know.
...

I long to hear the ancient wind that sighs
throughout the tops of old forest trees
and fills the primal canopy of leaves
with melancholy echoes—hollow, high.
...

The moon invites herself into my room
and stirs me from a deep and rumpled sleep—
a mythic mistress climbing from her tomb,
or silver siren rising from the deep.
...