Sitting on the steps of the back porch
A piece of staling bread sour-dry in my mouth
Wondering if there is peace in this evening.
I notice above me sky whales,
Silent, moving slowly, but faster than you would think,
Bellies blue, edges tinted pink.
And suddenly I know which way is west
Because they are gliding away from the darkening pallor
Where the sun set not so long ago.
The air above me is water.
I am looking up into the sea
Where migrating orca mountains
made by breath, moved by wind
Slide from dusk to darkness.
I no longer know up from down, drowning from sighs,
But by God I know which way is west.
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 6:52 PM UTC
Sitting on the steps of the back porch
A piece of staling bread sour-dry in my mouth
Wondering if there is peace in this evening.
I notice above me sky whales,
Silent, moving slowly, but faster than you would think,
Bellies blue, edges tinted pink.
And suddenly I know which way is west
Because they are gliding away from the darkening pallor
Where the sun set not so long ago.
The air above me is water.
I am looking up into the sea
Where migrating orca mountains
made by breath, moved by wind
Slide from dusk to darkness.
I no longer know up from down, drowning from sighs,
But by God I know which way is west.
Written June 23, 2012