if i could read the grains of sand
on just one beach
i would know the prayer songs
of sweet salt breezes
the hidden truth of tidepools;
i would know everything & nothing.
asleep on the couch
your dreams flutter
escape to the roof next door;
i wonder if they too watch
the exquisite death of rose petals
falling to the ground.
surrounded by your quiet slumber
i forget the frailty
of this moment & the next;
doors that stick in winter,
unanswered mail,
the mourning of dahlias
ruined by first frost,
hobbled by the cold
like bones.
• • • •
Published in Green Hills Literary Lantern, Volume XVII (2006)
Photo by Magyber Miranda on Unsplash