Quiet descends in waves
a spectrum of where
ever sky is upon the lands
This poem and photograph originally appeared in the literary magazine Mojave Heart Review.
Photography
The Grove of Trees
Awoke to find ourselves
in the same grove of trees
we can’t quite place
When were we there?
Never said we couldn’t
have the same dreams
Nothing left for us to do
but go back to sleep
and look for each other
once again in the grove of trees
we can’t quite place
The Dream Had Set an Exquisite Table
The dream had set an exquisite table
I was met by myself
and together we shared a meal
Just before dawn
we woke ourselves up
at once not remembering
a word of the conversation
The Mirror of All Our Moments
The mirror of all our moments
a jagged, endless weaving
of crash and caress
slips back into the sea
This Summer Was Supposed To Be Different
This summer
was supposed to be different
It was, and it wasn’t
Just like always
we complained about the humidity
stayed too long in the sun
and exclaimed that we were eating
the best peach we had ever tasted
Do we actually believe anymore
it will be better
next summer?
Please Wait to be Seated
Open late
on a long ago night
we occasionally stumble
into remembering
the collapsed sign
along a deserted road
which let’s us know
exactly which exit to take
The Precipice of Sliced Peaches
The precipice of sliced peaches
freshly pulled from a tree
in front of the abandoned house
we used to pass
as we talked about missing
our never-ending summer
near the crash of waves
Last Light on Waves
The slow cut hits ground
on a long day unfurled
as your eyelids dance
into the collapsing glow
of last light on waves
crashed long ago
More sea poems can be found in Always Find the Sea.
Pour Out the Water
Pour out the water
clean the vase
wipe down the table
there will be new flowers
to cut
in the morning
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