Drift
cold morning sunlight-
fruit wood smoke gently rises
from the stone chimney
–
Not yet risen-
the scent of kona
from the kitchen
cold morning sunlight-
fruit wood smoke gently rises
from the stone chimney
–
Not yet risen-
the scent of kona
from the kitchen
staring at the clock
trying to understand the
cruelty of time
–
aching for sleep-
minutes collect
in piles on the floor
blackbird’s lilting song-
sunlight caresses your face
just before you wake
–
in the clouds-
the soft glow of
an autumn dawn
I can’t sleep at all
visions of the restless dead
inhabit my dreams
–
moon shadows-
a raven robed
in cobwebs
your silver hammer
softly tapping cracks into
my porcelain heart
–
soft breathing-
your hair gold
in the sunlight
before the mirror
staring into the unknown-
who the hell am I
–
sunday afternoon-
looking for a family
I swab my cheek
still she counts the ships-
her thick wool sweater stained red
with the setting sun
–
date night-
she sits at a table
set for one
monsters in my head
clamor at the gates of hell
screaming to be let out
–
the hiss of rain-
slow scratching
under my bed
the small of your back
illuminated softly
by a slice of moon
–
waterfall-
hair cascading
across my pillow
elusive silence-
a old game of whispers played
within my own head
–
before dawn-
the wind talking
with the leaves