Tired
dressed in homespun
with an old straw broom, barefoot
sweeping the dirt floor
–
breaking sun
moist soil on
the coffin’s lid
dressed in homespun
with an old straw broom, barefoot
sweeping the dirt floor
–
breaking sun
moist soil on
the coffin’s lid
walking with my thoughts
the sudden flurry of wings
once more I’m alone
–
circling on updrafts
watching the fish
take wing
running on instinct
pure adrenaline, and a
case of diet coke
–
pewter moonlight
silver fish turn
in pools of mist
awash in the tide
a ruined galleon lists
her cannons askew
–
prevailing winds
limping home
on torn sails
on the horizon
thunderclouds loom low, heavy
with impending rain
–
pounding drums
turning slowly to
polite applause
as dawn approaches
the breath of autumn whispers
in the swirling leaves
–
barefoot at dawn
walking in the surf
I draw you closer
at the marsh’s edge
flat water just visible
between the rushes
–
cat tails
swaying in
the salt breeze
splintering sunlight
golden arrow shafts quiver
piercing the water
–
the dog days
interrupted by
shattered glass
clinging to the light
for fear I may yet answer
when the darkness calls
–
spring rains
surging cataracts
once docile streams
impatient lemmings
craggy rocks block their passage
to the sea below
–
spring rains
a beaver dam
overflowing