tides (20170831)

once more i want to stand
upon that beach
remove my shoes though you know
i hate the sand against my skin

but i want to stand at the edge
of the sea
my feet in the wet sand
the water swirling around my ankles

i will stand against
the pull of the water
as sand is drawn out to sea
and i sink feet first

i want to remain there
as moon toys with tide
ground down like sea glass
the ocean and sand polishing me

standing still
sinking into wet sand
until the sea is over my head
and my edges have been smoothed away

tidal pull (20170429)

the ocean lives
in an empty
soup can
in the field
behind my house

i once found
a conch shell
bleached white
in that field
the ocean lived
there, too

the ocean lives
in my heart
salty tributaries
find their ways
to fingers, ears
the ducts of my eyes

you are too small
to be a moon
yet your song
pulls on the ocean
shaping it
before it flattens out
once more

——

It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 29

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Poem 20150308

through my open window
i hear the traffic of the freeway
they warned us when we bought
that the freeway was close
were we sure this is where we wanted to buy?
there were other houses that didn’t border
the big river of concrete
with the noise
but it didn’t matter to us
and now
the first day of daylight savings
after we’ve sprung forward
and the sun seems to take longer to
drift below the horizon
the freeway sounds like the roar of an alien ocean
where the waves never crash against
the sand
the rushing of water in some giant river
in fact and not just metaphor
and the motorcycles vibrating growls and shrieks
the shrill cries
of foreign birds seeking a meal
returning again and again
always circling

Poem 20150123

we three are in a room
crowded with old furniture, books, cushions and
the warm glow of firelight
like something out of a hoarder’s edwardian sitting room

you’re talking about our upcoming trip
the three of us are taking a ship
and you’re so beautiful talking about
the man you’re going to meet there

when you cross the room
i can see the soft red shimmer
of your camisole glitter
under the sheer fabric of your shirt

i try to hold you still
but you dance out of my arms
so in love that you are transported
out of this place and out of this time

I am not on the ship when it departs
i watch it pull out of the harbor
and my phone goes off when you realize
i am not there

“you can take another ship,” you say
“there’s a faster one leaving and
you can actually beat us there”
i do what you ask

the ship is old, crowded, and faster than the pleasure barge
we three had planned on sharing
but i have heard whispers about a trail of broken hulls
on the ocean floor, litter for the mermaids to pick over

i arrive still wet with spray from standing on the deck
surprised that your ship has magically arrived early
and the two of you have already disembarked
headed in opposite directions to your respective loves

i know where and when you are meeting him since
you speak of nothing else
and i perform magic of my own, thinking to get there first
i wander like a ghost but find that you are already in his arms

and i wonder about my need to follow you to this shore
to witness this with my own eyes
and wished that I had thrown myself into the fire in that study
or overboard the ship into the cold embrace of a mermaid