At the wharf I lean back against the damp stone wall, sip my drink and yield to the slippery salamander of sea. The moon is a  glistening slice of melon,  her whisper carried on the wind “moon child I love you too”.   Sinking deeper in to my subconscious I watch a  velvet Osprey swoop up  my reflection from the silver waves where the sighs of lovers are lost in a monsoon.  Old images flicker across my frontal lobe as I liberate sip by sip. That man with the golden veins doesn’t interest me anymore.  Maybe later when  my pearl skinned body breaks the surface I’ll bring him back again.

 

 

 

 

art by Steve Hanks

95 thoughts on “Later in the dark

  1. A perfect play, with water the stage, the moon lighting the set and cast of nature’s finest.
    You are the director who has pulled this perfect play together. ❤ ❤

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  2. The Osprey, the lovers’ monsoon, and that last line did me in. It amazes me how your poetry can sometimes make my heart ache.

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  3. ‘Sinking further in I watch a velvet Osprey swoop my reflection up from the silver waves where the sighs of lovers are lost in a monsoon.’ ❤ ❤

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  4. The man with the golden veins, your descriptions are so point. To see through your eyes is a joy in its own beautiful, a continuous journey the mind takes when you write. Lovely images galore.🌹🌹

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  5. Holly, I love the imagery of the moon lighting the osprey’s dive. It is a natural and beautiful break from the person’s melancholic reverie. As we learn after the passion fades, no man (or woman) has golden veins. We are all an imperfect lot. We only get closer to perfection when we give ourselves to another. Well done, Keith

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