Weary
bone tired, weary
driven forward all the while
dragging this baggage
–
shimmering heat
an old prospector
pulls at his burro
bone tired, weary
driven forward all the while
dragging this baggage
–
shimmering heat
an old prospector
pulls at his burro
ice over fresh snow
the delicate crust holds me
momentarily
–
warm green grass
a raindrop rolls
down my cheek
as the tide comes in
the quiet surf erases
our mingled footprints
–
salt breezes
clammers digging
in the wet sand
a hot summer morn
in the curl of a turned leaf
the gathering dew
–
a ringing anvil
collecting
beads of sweat
on the horizon
thunderclouds loom low, heavy
with impending rain
–
pounding drums
turning slowly to
polite applause
steering through the shoals
drawn in by the siren’s song
of my flannel sheets
–
coveting
the cool side
of her pillow
a symbol of strength
welcoming travelers that
seek her destruction
–
in the forest
of fallen oaks
a sapling grows
sleep so elusive
reliving memories in
my childhood bedroom
–
oppressive heat
clock watching
until sunrise
at the marsh’s edge
flat water just visible
between the rushes
–
cat tails
swaying in
the salt breeze
alone in the woods
dry rustling leaves in the wind
the snap of a twig
–
sear grasses
fueling the
inevitable