*Our skins barest bare
in this long awaited retreat
we sit on adirondack chair
waves washing our feet.*
We know such times are fragile
like dreams leaving at dawn
are like an imagined mile
before are breaths withdrawn!
We ponder not on what to write
not pour one word from breast
just wait for when seeping night
push the ring of flame to the west!
When one by one they come on the far
two shadows grow on the shore
we string one poem with a silken star
hearts sing in joy encore!
We let our bloods flow to the sea
our souls on sands lay bare
When new tides rise in the morn to be
find two adirondack chair!
*Life is but death's glorified twin
a delirious din in the hush
our days a riddle of earthly spin
an illusory maddening rush!*
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 3:56 AM UTC
*Our skins barest bare
in this long awaited retreat
we sit on adirondack chair
waves washing our feet.*
We know such times are fragile
like dreams leaving at dawn
are like an imagined mile
before are breaths withdrawn!
We ponder not on what to write
not pour one word from breast
just wait for when seeping night
push the ring of flame to the west!
When one by one they come on the far
two shadows grow on the shore
we string one poem with a silken star
hearts sing in joy encore!
We let our bloods flow to the sea
our souls on sands lay bare
When new tides rise in the morn to be
find two adirondack chair!
*Life is but death's glorified twin
a delirious din in the hush
our days a riddle of earthly spin
an illusory maddening rush!*
comes of a desire of once sitting with Nat Lipstadt at the Henry Island on the empty adirondack chair seen beside his name on the cover.
thank you Nat for giving me this dream.
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