They moved together restlessly
She with hesitation
He with impatience
She knew things he did not
He understood things she never would
Exploring, guiding, testing, discovering, tensing, releasing, breathing
He reached, touched
Her body smiled
He understood the where and when, cause and effect
Like a scientist mixing vital chemicals creating a reaction
She was carried on a wave
Despite herself
Despite what she knew, how it would end
He moved in ferocious tempo
Moved to unveil secrets
She stopped with
“Will the magic be gone?”
Hesitation, empty platitudes.
“When you see me, the magic will go “
He created a new wave
She let herself be distracted
Closed her eyes.
Let go.
As he looked, she dissolved into warm light.
She was gone.
He was grasping at shadows and light
She could see, not feel
He could touch but not see
Too far apart
Dimensions to cross
She knew this world of illusion
He understood transience of flesh
They moved slowly
To find a way either back or somewhere else
She with patience
He with disbelief
Exploring, reaching, holding, tasting, hoping, being.
Needing an eclipse
I don’t trust sunny days or blue skies
I much prefer the gloomy greys
Most of my heartache has happened
on the most beautiful days.
Always seemed incongruous.
Finding my child was gone before I even felt him
then having to walk down the grassy slope
filled with wildflowers
sweetly scenting the air
when all I could taste was salty tears.
Losing my father hours after sharing a celebratory meal
on the bluest summer day
then having to greet his cold countenance
in an air conditioned hospital hallway
parts of him still warm from his run on the lane.
Feeling my young heart break
from a boy who didn’t even know he had held it
just as loosely as his jangling set of keys
even though I tried fervently
to wrap around him.
Fearing my soul was irreparably torn by a man
who took me on journeys
and shared so much wisdom
but could only see as far as that night
when I needed to look beyond.
But grey skies have always comforted
tea and blankets and old movies cocooning me
a gentleman’s hands taking mine gently in the cold
storms bringing clarity
grey days feeling like home.
Take my breath away
it’s happened again
I saw you across the room
took my breath away
beat of the night
it was too loud
but the din seemed to fade
when unwanted thoughts came forward
ears were full of numbing sounds
pulsing of the bass
pounding of the drums
people were packed tight
writhing like sea serpents
in an ocean of thrumming music
bodies moved all on their own
while errant thoughts crept in
skin touching
hips swaying
feet following patterns on the floor
but in the mind’s eye
there they were
snuggled under a quilt
on a Saturday night
tucked in early
staying up late
talking and loving for hours
not here in a warehouse-turned club
where the cool people go
to claim they are celebrating life
when they are really just escaping mediocre reality
the mundane that we all face
the rhythms of the day
overwhelming
so they try to forget amidst the club rhythms
until closing time
and then even the streetlights seem harsh
showing every crevasse on the face
try to keep to the shadows
where silence is a friend
darkness is a comfort
making the trek homeward
walking greasy streets
only a few souls lurking and leering about
all wondering and worrying alike
who will take me now
will I ever be loved again
the questions fall quietly on macadam
to be picked up the next night
by others seeking answers in the beat of the night
Briny thoughts
navigating briny seas
salt encrusted thoughts and words
squinting against the searing sun
he was parched
gripping the rail
allowing himself to remember
just for a short while
the gentle rocking
of another journey
how she felt
her smooth lines
under his calloused hands
her curves in the light
as she moved in shadow
he would inspect her
from bow to stern
and feel the excitement
of setting out on adventures
the tales
the storms
the quiet of night
he craved something to quench his thirst
but would not move from port side
where he could best recall
her every move
how she handled
dipping and rising
how he commanded
with calm and precision
before she was gone
to another horizon
and he blamed
the spraying brine
for the errant tear that shone in his eye
best to hold fast
to the rail
and command
and plunder anew
since the waves would only push him forwards
The Word Rummager 