|
in her dreams
the windows are open
waves break against them
a white frothed tide
and the curtains
billow inwards
bellied by the wind
like heavy canvas
in her dreams
the floor is flooded
with shallow water
driftwood pile up
by the posts of her bed
and she can see
a glimmer of shells
beneath her vanity table
in her dreams
he comes to her
through those windows
across that floor
like some spirit of the sea
swaying and shimmering
and speaking so softly
she never remembers the words
in her dreams
there are beads in her hair
and the taste of salt
is on her lips
she gathers him close
as if wise beyond her years
and his weight on her
heralds the storm
~.~
All our authors
thrive on feedback. Email
the Webmaster to have comments forwarded to the author.

Back
to Poetry Menu
|