silver wing
sole bird
divided
between what is
swept behind
and
what soars forward
all is blue
and gray
and considered
by the earthbound
looking up
in wonder
and
indecision

her mind fell off
at that moment
the morning silvered,
brushed at the sky
like a wing
and forgot it altogether
let it sweep
and tarry
like a bird she had loved
and let leave its cage
some years ago

begins with a spark
and later
an alchemy
begins at a cedar wood and
finishes on butter smooth and strange
lederhosen, lederhosen babbling brook
still in that wood green to red to smoked
blackberries vining at the periphery
a silk, fragrant drift –
peppertree on my tongue

and at last breath
he is tart, focused
and dark night falls in

his hand drops the glass

Note to reader: This piece was written on the occasion of a Thursday Night Wine Tasting at Zillie’s Island Pantry on Ocracoke Island, North Carolina. The lovely staff and the wines and food pairings they presented served as my inspiration. My gratitude to David, William, Will and Mackie Bell. Cheers!

PS. To anyone that is reading this, I implore you to go to Zillie’s if ever you find yourself on the island. You will not regret it.

fingers entwined
backlit
and what shines through

what shines through
is a forgotten wish
a brackish breath

what shines through
is a forgotten abyss
is a missed step

what shines through
is best
not forgotten

as it entwines you
like fingers
lit
back

endless
soft
coiled
lambent, no grid
i feel you, lovely
full joy
uncorrected
text not yet but
inked on forever
like a nap, feline
mapped out with boys on the side
coffee on your tongue
liquid stone
acquired resonance

how are you gonna do that to his soul

anything consciously

hunting

the ridiculous and

sometimes considering

the wow

as a whisper it began
an idea, an image of myself
walking backlit against the sea
a windblown silhouette, hair streaming,
legs slender and stretched out into towering proportion –
the distance between my ankles and hips perhaps seven feet

a girl, a woman, a witch
walking her solitude

and the sounds seeped in like water, like sand
they pooled
cool and silky at my feet
the surge and slip of the surf –
a steady heart drumming
the occasional angry scatting of the seagulls –
a parallel to the water
eternally caught and released
the crackling crickets of shell and stone –

strewn and re-strewn

the salted breath in my nose

and my mind flying outward

of the clouds

always seeking a place –

soft, hot, music-filled, ancient, salted, pushed and pulled and redolent of life –

to land