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Quote by Robert Hunter, Jerry Garcia

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Robert Hunter, Jerry Garcia

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“She has a fiery soul that cannot be tamed. She has free spirit that cannot be maimed. She moves with the wind and flows with the river. She howls at the moon and smiles at the sun. Just when you think she is finished, she declares, “I’ve just begun.” Like wild flowers, she grows where she decides to push through fallow ground. Like wild fires, she spreads with speed that can’t be drowned. She has mystery in her blood, magic in her touch and regardless of her frame she can be too much-wild woman. She is not predictable, controllable nor the people pleasing kind. That’s why she is called wild woman and can never be defined.”

PoemsEmpowerment Of WomenMysterious WomanWild Woman Quotes
Author:Mishi McCoy
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“You felt she'd done a thousand secret things to her eyes. They needed no haze of cigarette smoke to look at you out of sexy and fathomless, but carried their own along with them. New York must have been for her a city of smoke, its streets the courtyards of limbo, its bodies like wraiths. Smoke seemed to be in her voice, in her movements; making her all the more substantial, more there, as if words, glances, small lewdnesses could only become baffled and brought to rest like smoke in her long hair; remain there useless till she released them, accidentally and unknowingly, with a toss of her head.”

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Book:V.
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“I wore my suit and the polka-dot tie. As soon as I spotted Malta Kano, I tried to walk in her direction, but the crowd kept getting in my way. By the time I reached the bar, she was gone. The tropical drink stood there on the bar, in front of her now empty stool. I took the next seat at the bar and ordered a scotch on the rocks. The bartender asked me what kind of scotch I'd like, and I answered Cutty Sark. I really didn't care which brand of scotch he served me, but Cutty Sark was the first thing that came to mind.”

Mysterious WomanCutty Sark
Book:The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
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“The Girl At The Lake by Stewart Stafford She stood at her post rigidly again, By the lakeside in a white dress, Staring sadly down into the water, Wind left hair and clothes unruffled. I waved and called out to her then, She looked up at me and through me, No recognition from her mourner's mask, She went back to staring at lapping water. Jumped in my car to check on her welfare, Driving over to her sole sentinel's mark, Nobody around, just ripples kissing the shore, Arriving home, I saw her at the water's edge. She plunged into the lake in plain sight of me, I dived in with my shoes on to save her, Not suicide, she tricked my life from me, "You can't leave now, darling," as I drowned. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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