WritersblockletterS

Of a sunrise in a coral cave

Overlooking the ocean. 

I believe I can see the sun rise

it's warming rays causing sensations

In a young man, with his toes sunk deep

Into that coarse dark stuff. 

time and energy are to her the same

neither tempted, corrupted, or swayed

by gentle words, or pointed persuasion

nor the edge of a blade

if one desires the bird to land

There is no sum in your coffer

large enough to coax or command

a change in course, in flight, in nature

it is for her alone to decide

Poor bastard, she wept her softest reply

they sat in still wonder

for the one who but must,

and the other who could not

every pain endured shall be a pain forgotten

We were at walnut Grove, playing on the playground.

Well, he was. I heard him first. With his snoring kind of joyous grunts. He was nose first in the barkdust. Running along. Sniffing to his hearts content.

He drug a line through the dust, straight into a little curb where he promptly flipped on his back and rolled in the greenest grass.

I turned around for a minute. When I looked back he was gone. The playground empty. Then I realized I'd never taken him there. Never taken him anywhere.

landing softly upon his petal.

Though it was she in need of rest

It was he with sustained vigor.

Thought weary in a world of one

her flight to higher highs

He's pretty thoughtful

she enters, quiet and graceful.

at first in waves, in streams

through pains, she floats

down from heaven to earth

to me.

for every rude awakening,

she is their softest counter.

mornings would not be special.

I've made mistakes

I didn't know until I did

Big bad ones

And there's no way to be

just gotta sit in it, let it wash over.

There's a tub, and it's full

bleach and salt and razor blades

And I have to willingly submerge myself

until I am new

Yes we do