December 2019 – Page 2

another el train
rumbles by as I sit in
my open window
–
an ailing fan-
ninety degrees
at two am

reemergent sun-
every blade of autumn grass
gleaming cut crystal
–
pewter light-
glazed branches
trap the moon

passing a graveyard
the white lady walks alone
between the headstones
–
diaphanous-
her burial shroud
becomes the fog

a coyote’s howl-
I walk out of my own skin
and right into yours
–
afloat-
my body below
an anchor

the sun bows her head-
day gives way to nightfall by
the ascendant moon
–
twilight-
fireflies call out
to emerging stars

blinded by the pain-
your small hand comes to guide me
out of the darkness
–
crystal sky-
the sudden flight
mourning doves

high above the ground-
defying gravity while
wrapped in flowing silk
–
empty fairgrounds-
torn and faded canvas
flaps in the wind

the late autumn moon-
rising from gold to silver.
above the treetops
–
evening snow-
low in the sky
an ivory moon

wrapped in white linen-
a flight of doves foreshadow
this final journey
–
evening shadows-
the winding road
into darkness

sea foam in her hair
warmed by the tropical sun
caressed by the breeze
–
ocean breeze-
rum runners in the shade
of a date palm