the twilight hours

I feel you in the pouring rain

violent or soft as a breeze.

A distant star you fade into

the night from which you came.

Wounded hearts are slow to heal

but I have become indifferent to pain.

Sweet gardenias fill my rooms with mortality

decaying petals soaked in secrets

rhapsodize my dreams with the zephyr of your sigh.

We are a wasteland, all poetic breath died with us.

I long for the scent of earth infused with deep roots,

the soothing sounds of swaying wind chimes clinging

to the limb of a live oak,

soothing sounds for the twilight hours.

Falling

Wide  walls of

water tumble into deep pools

spilling over slippery quartz.

Grasping at jagged edges

She steps onto the mossy sludge,

sinks into  soggy pockets of

blue-green algae.

Slender fingers  grab at  veiny

pulleys of the  forest yet when

She reaches they resist.

The water is screaming indignation,

a fury thrashing upon stone,

Penance for thwarting

it’s downward path and there is

no way to console them.

Retribution is why She comes here,

a pounding  retaliation,

the sting of needles on her back

stones soothed by wrath.

 

 

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rituals

Waiting for you became a ritual,

listening for the  sound of your footsteps

in the pounding rain.

The  taste of salt still remains

upon my lips where you left it

and in dreams you are evoked

by the wings of seabirds where I have

pressed our memory.

At daybreak the tide  retreats without

leaving you at my shore and it is

there I accept loss.

At the hollow of my throat I have etched

your name  somehow declaring us sacred.

 

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Consolation

Folded beneath white caps

shards of crystals stack in layers.

Seaweed tentacles abandon their grip,

letting go of their bed they are

swept away by the tide snared by sea oats

stranded in the dunes.

A shroud of melon melts down the vista.

Seafaring specters bob in the distance

drifting apparitions that vanish

in the  haze,  lost to the horizon.

Seagulls hover between  sea and sky,

wingtips graze the watery glass,

skimming, plunging,  their throaty caws

console the lonely sea.

 

by the shore

 

 

Captiva

I’ve become a cove girl,

my pockets filled with shells
with limbs tied
to nothing.

My words I have bartered
for moonlight streaming
down my throat.

Wrapped in it’s light
I barely imprint
the sand.

Let us be specks
in an immense world where
for you are my universe.

These wet walls echo with sighs
it’s been eons since they’ve heard
the moans of lovers.

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