Sunday, March 5, 2017

She seas you


dreamt that you brought me
a bag of sand
for my hourglass

 the gold flecks sparked, alit by
the sunlight in your eyes, whereby
the ocean leaked

 and the bag was empty...

 certain it was you.




Painting by George Bellows (1917) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Labels: , , , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

A penny in a pond

Nobody is good enough anymore, Everything is better than ever before. This precious moment does not last this is why we live in the past- it...

  • The answer to my prayers
    A year ago this May, in fact, upon this same very grey day- something came over me I found could say, in no other way but to portray, ...
  • Laundering
    Where does one begin to unpack the suitcase of grief? While it may be nice to throw it all away, or donate these shreds, I find it i...
  • A Quake Among the Giants
    Natures touch is both gentle and fierce. Homo sapiens  trample on her back. The thick skin impossible to pierce. So...