Ursula

She follows a trail well known, the wind blows its cover, wrapped around like a gown, pulled from dull marriage, she is crazy for others, her face a rite of passage, seduced by clubs and shown, she laughs with sequined lovers, sunshine dances down, she was / you are/ I am born, a kid of yellow troubles, but never uses scorn, on ship or ocean town, no candle can smother, the miracle of soft rebounds, she isn’t savage, and hardly makes you suffer, love might be slow in passing, but it’s a fine blue morning.