Follow this blog
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
New Year’s Day, 2018 Venice Beach . It’s not the state we’re used to, this time around – of the union, or of being. The breeze is less than balmy, the palms nearly as frozen as our own. We’ve come … Continue reading
(for Justin) .. Come, grow old with me in a salty shanty by the broken sea. I’ll braid my hair, silver as moon sliver. You’ll hold my papered hands between your own. We’ll watch our children, grown (and children … Continue reading
… this maid? she’s mer. see her spangled tail, her eyelash salt? she swims, she skims the surface with her syll -ables and song. give her a moon spilled dark, the quiet spark of waking sun. she’ll thread her lack … Continue reading
.. The sky is falling in slivers, the coins in the fountain are few. The fates have gathered their scissors. Oh, won’t you come pilfer your share? All seven seas have grown weary of holding their bright salt at bay. … Continue reading
.. Tumble her to shore, sea -glass shrugged from sand. Crack open the sun -rise, bid her to stand on the edge of the earth, see His face, feel her worth. .. prompted by OctPoWriMo, day 27.
.. Prompted by OctPoWriMo, day 15.