Distance – Page 68

flooded rice paddies
on the roadside sheaves of straw
drying in the sun
–
high spring sun
nimble fingers
sowing wheat

living day to day
ignoring where I’ve been and
what the future holds
–
frost on the grass
awake in the dark
breathless and immobile

tall iron street lamps
cast their pallid light over
London’s cobblestones
–
polished pewter
the lustrous glow
of a veiled moon

stumbling badly
pausing on the precipice
of complete collapse
–
smooth sailing
seeking freedom
from consequence

reaching through the gloom
seeking the humanity
common to us all
–
a red call box
tendrils of fog
climbing the ivy

alone on the sea
caught in a tempest’s fury
far from her home port
–
an unfamiliar bed
the southern cross
in the night sky

distant sirens wail
slowly I realize that
you’re not coming home
–
a warm shower
startled awake
by the telephone

our favorite booth
fond memories now haunting
a table for one
–
calm water
the shadow of
a rope swing

well seasoned hardwood
crackles and hisses as it
slowly turns to ash
–
rolling seas
a cigarette cupped
against the wind

a slice of the night
carved out of a starless sky
gleaming, motionless
–
chaff in the wind
burnished brass
low on the horizon