And She Wrote

new chapter

She cracked the spine

and reflected upon

its glaring whiteness

with accelerated pulse,

intruder in paradise.

*

Frowning, she discarded

several nibs, stuttering

chicken scratch on

hotel stationery before

selecting an instrument

suited to her purpose,

ink which swelled

like forever tides on a shore

of sea-spun glass.

*

Pen paused over paper,

footfall unwilling to mar

the perfection of powdered sugar,

undisturbed beach

sweet in its virginal rest.

*

But her story begged,

cajoled,

dictated an ending –

and she began in a tremble

to add the denouement

*

with strokes grown firm

as words poured, splashed,

filled page

after page

after page,

deliberately crossed t’s

and dotted i’s lapping,

emboldened tidal waves,

characters

and plots and twists

painting her legacy

on sandy canvas.

*

And still she wrote,

late into the night,

knowing that every error

could be edited out,

every encounter

re-worked to melt

seamlessly, sunset into sea,

a story only she

could write.

*

And she wrote.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spring Staycation

Verbena close-up

Kissed by spray in coral seas,

toes in sand warmed by the sun;

job demands dispelled by breeze,

stress by relaxation won.

*

It just keeps snowing.  I’m headed to ‘Tahiti’ for a little mental break.  Come along, would you?   (It’s incredibly cheap, I promise…)

Lines Drawn in the Sand

Your branches rake the sky,

impotent fingers curled in grave-clothes

clutching pipe dreams of the Living Ones.

Your skin has long since

ceased to hold its contents,

draining your life’s blood into the sea

before being spewed onto the sand,

a jinxed Jonah, a shrivelled mummy with no sphinx

to mark your place.

In life,

you hatched egrets and expelled oxygen

and marked the seasons with your foliar calendar.

In death,

here you are,

washed up,

a beached whale

whose art is a shadow,

 lines drawn in the sand…