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Haiku Free Verse Prosies
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There are separate parts of me
within the whole,
each of them priceless, rebirthed
and full,
At the head of the circle
is Bear
and the one who speaks to the world.
At three, I trembled.
A nine, I cried.
At twelve, I raged
and onward plunged
with my broken heart.
Now, the blue line of my skin
contains them all—
frozen in their moments
each pacing out their squares of space,
their separate boundaries.
They do not speak except in tongues.
I spin out their voices from the raw and tangled mass,
and weave them into a whole.
—Frances Donovan
2000, 2003
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