Tide
the slow push of surf-
a lighthouse in the distance
obscured by the fog
–
distant foghorns
cairns lost
to the tide
the slow push of surf-
a lighthouse in the distance
obscured by the fog
–
distant foghorns
cairns lost
to the tide
clutching thoughts and prayers
while we let those who suffer
slip through our fingers
–
predawn chill-
sleeping children
suddenly fatherless
horizontal rain-
fractured palms and broken dreams
tumble down the street
–
dark greasy smoke-
The sky lit
by falling embers
dull red numerals-
precious sleep stolen away
minute by minute
–
the wee hours-
eyes wide open
In the darkness
snow on the gravestones-
the caretaker’s lantern swings
haloed in the fog
–
moonlit snow-
fog sprawls
across the road
tiny wisps of light
at the edge of the forest
dancing in the dark
–
the nighttime sea-
distant sirens
in the dark
twisting in my sleep
I smell the blood and cordite
and lotus flowers
–
torrential rain-
countless lost
to take a hill
the creak of hinges-
curtains drawn against the light
rising in the east
–
fading daylight-
the rustle of
leathery wings
my outstretched fingers-
reaching out for your touch but
you’re already gone
–
icy fog-
your skin cold
to the touch
so many evenings
spent in stony solitude
with yet without you
–
rain etched stones-
the once neat path
overgrown