How far? I ask
(is the ocean)
whenever we are somewhere
the ocean is not –
often comes the reply
“not far..”
(Perhaps a few hour’s or a day’s drive)
‘Not far’
is a distance measured
on the scent of a breeze
something palpable in the atmosphere
in fog rolling across the land
‘Not far’
is the rhythmic, plaintiff cry
marking that place
where shore and sea
precipitously meet.
Tumbled by the ocean through a sea of sand sharp edges begin to break Larger surfaces slowly acquire a brushed satin appearance trapping the light inside and the edges finally wash smooth Not unlike a cherished memory locked in the heart and softened by time
August hangs heavy in the air uncomfortably cloaking all who venture outside August forced open its eyes later this morning than yesterday labored breathing hissing over soon ssooooon (I found a cicada lying silent in the street on my morning walk today) What happened to May’s sweet promise the glittering dance of June July’s sultry…
At first a few leaves lay scattered on the ground but by Wednesday whole yards were covered Lawns returned to green only when weekend gardeners shredded and swept the interlopers It is early August, yet the Tulip Poplar doesn’t care Years ago, its broad yellow leaf intrigued me, as reaching between the Manual of Woody…
Early morning sun dances across the inlet in a blizzard of light tags a falling leaf then darts up the hill weaving through the trees in a game of hide and seek Thousands of gold flecks swirl through the air lifted on the wind – while winter lies in wait around the next corner Temporarily…
Sun’s first rays pick at the blinds teasing them open just a little then its long fingers stretch across the room and tickle my face Outside the world moves in slow motion gulls doze on a diamond sea whose only movement is a ripple as it turns over in its sleep A few birds lazily…
Stepping across the threshold leaving one reality, embracing another – if only for a few moments Inside a fan mutely, slowly bathes the room in a slight breeze long, slender blades dip (ever so slightly) as if to caress my husband resting in the bed below were it not for the four posters standing sentry…