Cold rain falls in the river, flows down to the sea, gets into the skyline, circles endlessly. Same old rain on the wind, same old pain in my soul.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Dragonflies & Butterfly Fish

It was a thousand years ago, and somehow just yesterday.
Public beaches, jet skis, fishermen and her to he on a hot July afternoon. She always was the one with brass balls and a way with water. His choices were obvious.
should we?

I suppose not.

I will.
I know.

is not my smile

is not the whiteness
of my raised chill

more than.

watch me.
see my hair
float, then lay.
see my arms
as humble wheat
to August wind

this I see.

do not my eyes
paint the wet around me?

in deep-sea mascara

The fish,
how they wag.
the dragonflies
who light upon my shoulder,
all speak approval
while to all others
I don’t even

do I exist
to you?
the dragonflies say so,
and I believe.

this moment ,
this chance,
will swim to distant shores
in the wake of
butterfly fish.
and the coupling of blue-green
will fly
on the magic
of dragonfly wings

my tears
that hide
and strain
behind my tame torn heart
say it is so.

so come to my depth.
I’ll light upon your hips
and teach you
what dragonflies
and butterfly fishes
have taught me.
will you?
will you come to my depth?

and he did.
and they swam.
and the distant shore
waited in vain.