you at my side, no footstool
In it now, a jacket, encouraged
off by suns rays, an iphone,
similar to the one you carried
In its green case picture ready, a book familiar
to this bag, pages loved and worn, stories told of stories,
story ready as you demand, my muse, my friend.
I write in it now by the sea, this sea,
you brought me to, companioing me through
kookuburra laughs, eculyptus waves,
encouraging me to notice, no to claim
to live my sacred journey, as I read another.
Alone on the beach, surrounded by you,
a cast of thousand, I go to leave, waves call me wait,
notice yet again, toes sink in sand,
water washing over sorrow, sun shining joy,
my gray dead seaweed bench,
life filled.
gkn October.2015
No comments:
Post a Comment