Early
autumn mornings spent
polishing the temple bells
as the sun rises
–
robins-
footprints in
the morning dew
autumn mornings spent
polishing the temple bells
as the sun rises
–
robins-
footprints in
the morning dew
worn and creaky stairs-
cobwebs draped in the corners
of her addled mind
–
rising fog-
a futile search
for clarity
flags snap in the wind-
lines of waves begin to break
over silver sands
–
snoring-
warm breath
on my neck
inhaling my breath-
fresh clay from the river banks
shaped in my image
–
amber leaves-
a broken vessel
returned to the earth
low, the morning moon
full behind the breaking clouds
glowing in the sun
–
pumpkins on the vine-
the eastern sky
full of promise
brake light in the fog
dozens of burning red eyes
peering through the mist
–
clearing haze-
wet leaves on
dangerous curves
deafening silence-
either speak out or admit
your complicity
–
becalmed-
the sea reclaims
what’s rightly hers
standing divided
sunlight shining on my face
my feet in shadow
–
peeks of sun-
our stately elm
torn asunder
full of suspicions-
in our bed looking at you
lying beside me
–
crevasse-
a broken trust
far from healing
a chance encounter
just glimpse of your face then
you’re lost in the crowd
–
incoming tide-
all these memories
built on sand