Wouldn’t Bet It All on Friday

shadow at beach

Wouldn’t bet it all on Friday

as Friday came and went

just another square on the calendar

just another face in the crowd

just another coin in the fountain

just another, just another

It goes on and on, the waves roll in

but the tide never really changes

just more broken shells left to find

walked this beach a thousand times

bet it all on Friday again

but nothing changed, what remains

inside these walls of sky again

I’ll go quietly

i;ll go quietly

a thousand miles

down the shore, I walked

before the gulls weary wings

and mine, we rested

by walking the sea’s remember

you once walked here, too

before broken shells

and words, winter’s bite

echoes of tidal times

moon phases, things

you can count on

you

disappeared

one set of footprints in sand

even the waves know

erase it all

quickly, so we don’t

look back, so stark

these clouds who used

to gather down, they look

away now, just me

a one way trip

I’ll go quietly

Little Bird Sea Shore

littleshorebird

Little Bird Sea Shore

little bird

ocean shore

walking the edge

waves, skitter skitter

stop, beak the sand

in and out along

the tidal know

you stay you go

little bird I watch

you see

skitter skitter away

from me back and forth

sun to moon you

wait rolling waves

advance retreat

finally you fly

I

fly

with

you

Weathering Me

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when the sun was still early in the sky

and the waves broke easy near the shore

I waded past knee high white caps into the Atlantic

early summer smiled and so did I

floating through what the sea rolled my way

                                      

hours like minutes, until the clock faced sky

began to fill with cloudy hands

the water churned mixing salt and sand

the roll pulled me down the shore, but still I rode

swam harder to keep time with the sea

 

the sun sank lower, watching me

clouds spread darker, angering the sea

I grew smaller and more tired, floating out the waves

still I stayed in that day

where else would I be?

 

the tide began to rip and pull at me

drew me out further, where the surf broke high and loud

I dove beneath, let it swirl above

but it all came faster and faster

trying to keep up with the sea

 

my breath was short and salty

what I had left was low as the falling sun

watching as a breaker swept over me

tossed beneath its turbulent green

I washed up on shore, a piece of driftwood

 

next wave hit me square, spun me under

pulled me back, so I stayed at the edge and didn’t leave

sun still watching, still waiting, still listening

I was salt and sand and part of the sea

wave after wave weathering me

 

Erosion

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She used to face the wind, steady

strength worn in straight lines and

sound steps. But harsh nights

and bitter words weathered her

core, washed away resolve,

beat down seasoned worth,

pieces fall away, she lets

them go, it’s all broken

anyway, layers of fall

lean and snap of

her, cruel words

grab, she’s only

a fragment of

what she was,

the rest of

her is

gone

The Sea Still Cries

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Listen, hear, I am but a gull whose feathers

raise against offshore winds, but the sea,

the sea sent me with words for you.

I waited by the shore break, passed

many days, tides, and angry rain, for the sea

spoke, called forth the sun. As I rode

his rolling surf, he sung of his love for you,

the furious storms that frightened you away.

He knew you trembled in your sleep, dreamt

of being swept away under his dark waves.

He quieted, and waited for your sun to return.

“Gull,” he cried, “She will come back. Tell her

not to go. Look upon my gentle calm.”

And I was part of the sea, and believed.

You sat with the sea all that day, felt, heard,

listened his song of calm, until the clouds

pulled across the sun, though he fought them,

they were angry, and dark.  The sea tried,

and tried to hold his calm but the dark

clouds and wind were joined, and the waves

swelled, and louder, crashed, higher and soon,

you were trembling again, and left. I was sorry.

And the sea still cries for you.

 

 

No One Ever Wrote a Poem for You

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You show me a skull, tell me you scare people,

and you don’t believe in God.

I nod and listen, smile a little, and hold out my hand.

Come with me, let’s walk together.  Take my hand –

It’s warm, you say – yours is, too, but I knew it would be.

Let’s walk the shore and you tell me why God can’t exist.

I promise to hear you, if you promise to stop with me,

close your eyes and listen to the way waves

feel as they gather toward shore, and break

their release to the sand in song.  And see the shells,

and the driftwood, each one a different sea sailor.  Listen;

they will tell you stories of voyages and places you could

never know.  Breathe the salt air, know it like home,

like carefree summer days and moonlit nights, it holds you.

Now let the words go and watch as my sun floats to the waiting

sea, his arms outstretched to embrace her.  Do you feel the yellow?

I watch you close your eyes, and I wrap my arms around you

as the shades of glow and sincerity wash through you. Quiet.

The sun has gone and sweet blue shines the sand.  You turn

around silently to hug me. I feel it. Watching you drive away,

I see you smiling.  There is love all around you.

God just followed you home.

What Remained

He blew through bitter and dark,

battering her shores with cruel winds

that dragged her in a frenzied, swirling dance.

His wrathful waves assaulted her shore,

her protection, as he slammed his rage

against her, under somber, swirling skies.

She pleaded, tried to reason with him,

even sang a song, of the love between sand and sea,

but his relentless rage continued,

for she had taken up with the sun,

and he could not bear to see her golden sands.

To save herself, she bowed her head,

put up a fence to fend him off,

but he struck it down, “Let your sun

shine on a broken fence.”

Then, depleted from his fury and the change of tides,

the sea retreated, dragging as many

pieces of her with him as he could.

The sun shone on what remained.

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I Found Your Heart Today

I found your heart today, as I walked the shore.

The sun hung low in the early winter sky; it was waiting

for me, light cast through empty branches, subdued,

whispering to me to look among the sand and stones.

And I did, though I didn’t know why.  I shuffled my feet

along golden shore, listening to the songs of shore birds,

as sun touched my neck tenderly, knowing what I would find.

I stumbled, felt a tear on my cheek, and, under my hand,

the coldest stone.  I lifted it up and saw your heart.

Closing my eyes, I clasped it in my hand, but it did not warm,

and the sun left us alone on the sand.  Having no use

for a heart of stone, I skipped it across the water,

a poignant mirror of sky.

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