Seasons – Page 115

weary of this need
yearning to see the sun but
your throat, so tempting
–
orion’s belt-
clouds of bats
obscure the moon

holding you tightly
wondering just where you go
when the darkness comes
–
stifling heat-
electric blue veins
dance across the storm

on our bedroom shelf
a collection of sea glass
each piece a moment
–
dogwoods-
petals stolen
by the wind

the girl of my dreams
or maybe just one of my
hallucinations
–
freshly cut grass-
watching the clouds
transform

my better judgement
failing me once again for
momentary bliss
–
late summer-
the prayers
of the mantis

anticipation-
enduring the pain, thankful
for feeling at all
–
deadheading-
rose thorns
pierce my skin

a flash of silver
swimming in place, lingering
against the current
–
buffeted and battered-
leaning
into the wind

weeping cherry trees-
a wistful gaze through windows
that never open
–
budding branches-
a cockatoo’s
clipped wings

the frayed rope, broken
bubbles breaking the surface
of the swimming hole
–
sweet spring air-
off a chestnut branch
a stout rope swings

beauty and horror
entwined around each other
in a spider’s web
–
morning mist-
time passes
red on black