Indulging Conjecture

Pink sand pulls away

from the glistening shore

melting fondant in the

sticky heat

Minute  ecosystems inhabit

tiny  grottoes in  tide pools

of wet sand

Some days I stroll the coast alone

escaping into secret realms of lovers

where there is no logic but

an aching crush I hold to my breast

a passage between a heart and the

mountains where I left you

Allow me to come undone beneath

tender hands on eggshell

the gentle quake of a sigh upon your

unshaven cheek

Let me   drown in the green river of

your eyes where there

is no threat of war hard silence

or the burden of forgiveness

I wrote this for you

I wrote this poem for you

I want it to be perfect

its verses as bright as a

summer day in a garden

we created among billows

of blossoms  ascending carnations

lean back in our rose colored swing

while I surrender to a dream

until it’s  time for me to go

I don’t want to own

I just want to be here

Translation By Bernd @ Neues Vom Hutschi

Ich schrieb dieses Gedicht
nur für dich.
Ich möchte, dass es perfekt sei,
mit Versen, hell wie ein
ein Sommertag.
Wallende Wolken,
aufsteigende Nelken
aus einem Garten, den ich erschaffen habe.
Lehn dich zurück in meine Rosenblüte,
eine farbige Schaukel und
geb dich Tagträumen hin,
bis es Zeit ist zu gehen.
Ich möchte, dass du regierst …
Ich will nicht besitzen,
nur dabei sein.

Breaking Horses

You are getting closer.
I hear the crunch of sand
and the skitter of stones beneath your
boots. The scent of tanned leather stings
my nostrils and fingers of steel butterflies
inflict fresh flesh wounds.
Your feathered crop gently brushes my shivering
shoulders, it floats over proud bones luring me
to the killing fields.
With no where to hide nothing can save me.
You have always known how to break wild horses.

Islamorada

Today  I threw wide

those carved doors that hold

my souvenirs.

The scent of sandal wood

filled the air and I thought

of you.

Tonight I will walk down

to the shore where the sky  is

a marvel of constellations,

the waves  topped with

frothy champagne.

The air is all sea lions and

the sky a silvery mirth.

I could stay here  for the

winter among the honey cake

dunes and  not think of you

at all.

 

 

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