I could be walking
on water down
the beach minding
my own business
a heron Jesus
and still at the splash
of your all
encompassing wingspan
I would not know
the difference
between a wave
and awash
(originally published in Avalon Literary Review, Summer 2024)
when the continents drift apart
again
at least I know any island would keep you
in its palm
and stay afloat
while tectonic ghosts shift
the ocean
every cyan wave an old hello
when I last tried to hold your sail
in my fist you turned to water
but I hear the tide sing melodies
that must return
bearing my name in pewter clouds
and silver rushes the word into air
into a sailboat– I see shape
in risen mist
with hope the form lingers
long enough to lead us
to where we need to be
(originally published in SHANTIH, Fall 2016)
sandals stomp
over scattered skittles
& seagulls encircle us
the gathered tides
implore us to
pick a color
within these waves
reflecting
a million skies
parachutes will glide
us downward
to the sand
and blue rises
so slow
we never fully meet
(originally published in Eunoia Review, Fall 2016)