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 Mar 2016
David Ehrgott
On this day
the twin teen
from the golden age

flies away
R.I.P. Anna Patty Duke
 Mar 2016
Sjr1000
Walking miles
on a
desolate beach
never losing
my path back
to the highway
home,
inside
I know

My eyes
will once again find
the healing white light
the beacon
of
The 4 Trees
guiding me
to the long
highway
home.

Along the way
losing sight
of
them all

There is confusion
fear and trepidation
feeling like a child
waiting in front of a
movie theater
for their mother to come
watching cars
counting trees

And of where I am
And of where I am going
Somewhere along these dunes

Familiarity will
set back in
focus will find
the  4 Trees
quaking in the salty breeze

The ocean is rough
storms blowing on through
calling
beckoning
with each frozen wave
the end of all issues

Sometimes looking out
Sometimes looking in
writing in the sand
knowing the tide
is coming in
erasing all.

The  landscape always changing
Easy to become so lost
And tho
the landmarks will decompose
and fade

The 4 Trees
for today mark the way

Easy to miss
along the forest
Panic
a breath away

The phantom captain
the voice within
reassures
not lost
just misplaced
our spot on the map

The spirit guides
the dance
in a spot of the healing
light
the rustling sounds
of the 4 Trees
guiding me
back to the highway.
The picture of the real 4 Trees on my homepage. Easy to get lost out there.
"The phantom captain", a description I first heard from Buckminister Fuller, many years ago.
Deep in the creek
where speckled light kisses the saline shore
and mud hole bubbles leave crab trails
I knock upon her door.

She opens with a whisper on her skin
licks my **** with her southern tongue
winds rise the dusts within
the mangrove falls quiet to her moaning song.
 Mar 2016
katie
today a dark 
sky is
   wrapping
itself around
my town,
squeezing
    all that
surrounds
in its strong
muscular
   hands, one
solitary crow
    manages
to slip free,
flies over
highways,
      streets
& trees,
I watch it
enviously as
it disappears
thinking
what I
would do
      for a pair
    of wings
 Mar 2016
Vanessa Gatley
Hug
Having
Ultimate
Grief
   well sometimes  Or can mean this
       Hiding
       Ugly
       Guilts
I pause at the marriage of boulder and river .. Along brimming , turquoise pools where I find my loves reflection ..
River Birches that yearn for their freedom ..The cool recompense of shaded ferns which uniformly line her red clay escarpments ....
Cobalt blue wildflowers ..The cover and color of my dreams paint both shores seemingly forever .. Red , black and green dragonflies patrol the riverbank trails , Pileated woodpeckers and Cardinals exchange their
riparian oaths before Orioles and cooing Doves ..
Cicadas rhythmically repeat whimsical , ancient melodies .. The songs of Utopia charge the abundant sights and smells before me ...
Copyright March 1 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
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