Can the Universe call out, entice
Demand?
Is there a feminine thread, of life
Growing
Do the sands of time park curbside
Mounded into moments into road-side stalls
Into Markets to haggle the existence
Of love
A sip, to taste, to close my eyes and replace
The crashing global shore over the remnants
Of culture and edifice
Outside, in this open air cafe
The caffeinated steam
Presses up to anticipation
A planet contemplates
The Universe
Still, at last, at longingly forever
She waits, in the glowing sea
A rising among the vast sheen

Which of us will be the last to recall
The cold colors of ***** splashing
Through the dunes on breezes
Lit by twilight ends of summer hours
Burning still the sands  
The rasping grass chorus
Laid silent, together, under the skies of our youth

Which of us will call out the scream of
That screen door, banging  
More frequently than the distant crashes of surf
Nerves tensed as dry and brittle
As those great grasses, ceaseless through day and through
night

We never thought about such things  
Before the years called back to us  
As mocking as the gulls'
Insistent bravado  
Laughter turned to tears
To swoop away
Empty

The words left altogether.

Thoughts and feelings, memories divided. 
Discrepancies voluntary.
Deceit the ring

Around the foundling’s mare, to ride the darkness 

Of the approaching storm.
Thunder heads rolling 

Behind angry cloud banks.
Spitting sparks. 

Angry, 

Divisive showers.

The universe showed me once how to smile despite myself. 

A garden amongst stone.
An illumination in the downpour. 

I looked again today and history became the mirror. 

The reflection of a purpose restrained.
Less crafted 

Than yielded, of the moment, in relativity. 


I feel the blankness of shock.
I feel the depth of the night 

Spent away from the one I love. 

And yet I crackle with life. 



Reset