Poetry

Dear You Know Who You Are :: 3

The moon is waning. Have you seen it tonight? I can trace seven stars when I am away from city lights, and once I wished on a dying star for a boy and a pond. I can never escape water and the flicker of a thing. The older version of you was wearing an older version of your hat, but he did not have your hair so I picked up jazz of a man who plays the blues with his left hand only. You are always flashing before my eyes. Where are you are under my skin.

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An Ars Poetica

Here, the waves lap into
the slither of beach,
take their time,
wait their turn

to fold up
and down into
behind one another.

They are in no rush to go
and come back,
ignore the wind in all its hurry.

In the sun
they sugar themselves
with a million
tiny
ellipses
of light.

On the way out
they intersect
with incoming waves,

graciously –

say ‘May I’
say ‘Please’
say ‘Thank you.”

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