Pirates
awash in the tide
a ruined galleon lists
her cannons askew
–
prevailing winds
limping home
on torn sails
awash in the tide
a ruined galleon lists
her cannons askew
–
prevailing winds
limping home
on torn sails
steering through the shoals
drawn in by the siren’s song
of my flannel sheets
–
coveting
the cool side
of her pillow
windows thrown open
sheer curtains gently wafting
in the evening breeze
–
becoming Icarus
flying westward
chasing the sun
clinging to the light
for fear I may yet answer
when the darkness calls
–
spring rains
surging cataracts
once docile streams
impatient lemmings
craggy rocks block their passage
to the sea below
–
spring rains
a beaver dam
overflowing
light plays on the walls
alternating blue and red
the sirens, silent
–
puddles in the street
turning to steam
in the sun
the sky burns crimson
in anticipation of
the ocean’s embrace
–
dawn chorus
an homage to
the rising sun
across the table
the chasm between us grows
wider day by day
–
a sudden stampede
of white horses
August rains
relaxing at last
working out in the garden
under the moonlight
–
high silver clouds
a beaver breaks
the water’s surface
searing summer heat
just pushed our relationship
past the tipping point
–
a praying mantis
in search of her
post-coital snack