Distance – Page 67

the hours before dawn
weaving my way back home through
the thinnest of light
–
gently becoming
as one with
the winter sky

jagged windblown sand
making a meal of driftwood
in the desert sun
–
just beyond the dunes
a faint whisper of
false promises

a ring tailed hawk watching
the curve of the crescent moon
emerge from the mist
–
the full moon
silhouetted
against the night

lying in the grass
in quiet conversation
with the fallen leaves
–
mottled sunlight
spruce needles
murmur underfoot

pulling on my hand
leading me into darkness
blind to your intent
–
autumn’s glory
reflections in
our tiny screens

dark, ominous skies
grey terns perched on a buoy
turned to face the wind
–
roiling water
gulls soar effortlessly
above the rocky shoals

bone tired, weary
driven forward all the while
dragging this baggage
–
shimmering heat
an old prospector
pulls at his burro

lingering on a
sea of empty promises
wet with resentment
–
dripping-
an eagle’s
empty talons

the last vestige
of the sinking evening sun
sets the sky alight
–
painted hillsides
a winding road turns
though burning leaves

a flash of silver
bright water patters and breaks
the woodland silence
–
finally unfettered
carried aloft
on golden wings