the old truck
I'm guessing from the 60's
now being devoured by trees
at the edge of this farm
melting into the hundreds of acres
a remnant
I took the back roads this time
on my latest sanity saving trip
to the Outer Banks
Where I'll pick through the
fragmented shells
looking for the few that made
the journey in one piece
like the scavenged souls we meet
I took some pictures where the
lighthouse peeks over the dunes
and spotted something in photo
after photo
an orb appears in each
and changes position with
every click of the camera
perhaps a soul
victim of a ship gone down
from one century or another
stepped out from his grave
the Atlantic
to enjoy a stroll along the beach

Moon
smiles
Though the sky
Gets dark and sad
Becomes more resplendent,
Luster, an optimistic satellite
Though its alone in the dim firmament
Its sheen does not waver
Gives a wider,
Brighter,
Beam

Suddenly, the silence prevails
and approaches me with a verdant orb
in it's hands

The cold wind is passing by
gesturing my reverie

Sometimes harshly
like frozen needles piercing
your naked body

Sometimes softly
like sun beams clasping
your naked soul

Around me blooms
of every hue and for every mood
Each one narrates it's own tale

My shadow revolves around
a cold emerald
I am that colour now
It escorts me to the carriage
of the winter I was longing for