Distance – Page 20

a fallen cedar
rotting in the undergrowth
turning back to earth
–
soft underfoot-
a carpet of
rotting leaves

droning bumblebees
flit from flower to blossom
gathering nectar
–
a young black bear-
prospecting
for gold

the scent of your hair
lingering on my pillow
greets me with the dawn
–
daybreak-
my arm draped around
your missing waist

slow afternoon rain-
long twisted rivulets run
across my windshield
–
mile twelve-
drops of sweat
mark my run

trash cans at the curb
the stars at my back as I
walk back up the drive
–
upended bins-
a bandit masked
in the moonlight

shards of broken glass
strewn deeply across my path
yet still I walk on
–
moonlit surf-
hatchling turtles
dash for the sea

moving through aspic
living just outside of time
tired and alone
–
persistent rain-
a raven just
beyond the glass

it’s far too simple-
these old men send the sons of
others to their deaths
–
a spring breeze-
the fog of war
swept out to sea

a wine glass empty
save for the mark your lips made
when kissing the rim
–
thick woolen socks-
a spark jumps
between our lips

a sudden cloudburst-
the rain soaking my shoes as
I run for cover
–
hazy sunshine-
sidewalks steaming
from the passing rain