Sunday, April 16, 2017

Poetry for Springtime

My lover is the storm tossed sea

My lover is the storm tossed sea
And the calm after.
She is waves
Cresting and falling in nearly
Rhythmic succession.
Each mounting taller,
The sea spray
Broken from her by
Wind that curls her peaks
Down onto my decks,
The troughs between, so deep
They bear my keel,
Threaten to break me,
Bow unsupported as I
Steer my course into the
Swell.


My lover is the oasis
And the mirage.
I am mad, dehydrated,
Sun blind from her brilliance,
Thirsting for the water
She shows me lying after the next
Slipface, down the next
Dune, in the secret garden
Nourished from her hidden
Seep.


My lover is the winter mountains
And the avalanche.
She is granite feet,
Cedar thighs, obsidian
Glances, sharper than knives,
Snow and the sunlight on
Snow, movement like
Glaciers unstoppable,
Carving my world,
Cutting me asunder and
Lifting me up, her springtime
Waking my desert and filing my
Sea.

21 March 2017


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