Sheep In Fog
The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.
The train leaves a line of breath.
Horse the colour of rust,
Hooves, dolorous bells –
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,
A flower left out.
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart.
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water.
All of me
for all of you…
nothing less deserved.
I am the moon and you the sun
but never am I earth.
huffed hotly against my thigh
causes laughter swallowed by oceans tide.
My toes search for purchase in the sand; adrift
in throes, in sweat raining off of you onto me,
I grasp tight the bark of a bent, palm tree.
I imagine fishermen
eyes straining off-shore,
and their shorts,
and their lines
launched to the anthem he sings
cleaving to my hips, anticipating breaths
and shouts for “more” spilled from
wet, wide lips turned skyward.
I am thankful for friends and family who have supported, encouraged, and contributed to my life and endeavors in their small and big ways. I am also thankful for the bouts of needed strength during hard and emotional times. Lastly, I am thankful for the year long weight loss ‘cause now I can stuff my face relatively guilt-free for the holidays.
Sometimes I miss him so much that I feel physically ill. Have you ever went a while without contact and communication with someone you love, a person that makes you whole? You know they are alright, and your ‘us’ is okay, but that momentary space kicks your emotional butt.
Today was a bit of a blue day with wild emotions making me fixate on everything bad, or anything that could go wrong. Thankfully, much like today’s rain, those blue feelings have passed and I managed to craft a poem from a moment I occasionally reflect on.
Writing is therapeutic, but sometimes M&M’s gets the job done.
Say their names
Speak them back into existence
against the crimes, the acts
of erasure, man’s brutal unkind
their truth, the mark, remains
a power that can never die.
She walked the steaming streets of Barbados
with discontentment and impatience over his
deceptions, underestimated by her cunningness.
She failed to calculate the sum of his craft,
Fell head first into folly –
bruised ego and heart.
Now he’s more than a flash,
he is breath hotly at her back,
he is endless through her ages.
I reach high to the open blue
to the silver linings
to the contrails following the people’s pride
and wait for the hail to cast me through;
from black freedom into white memory
they usher me, so callously.
they set sail in tub-o-ware
chart a course for destiny
bottle their tiny giggles
for a penny
keys turn with yearning for home
a rooster debuts with operatic sound
smoke dances on the body of trash
bend acutely in bed
his hand learns that longing is fickle
cast a line but caught a boot
kissed a fish that left only brine.