Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Pieces of The Moon

driftwood unfolding,
splinters in my fingers.
salt water burning the wounds.

blue water, blue sky,
blue day, blue night.
my heart, waning like the moon

and i see,
in the sea
a dark figure in the night.
a hopeful figure in the night.

diamonds washing up the shore,
i pick them up, my fingers sore.
pale circles in my palms
my ears hear the beggar's alms.

think hope, my dear
i say.
come alive, my dear,
i say.

Azul night along the shore,
I sit up right and hope for more.
My soul floods in me like the full moon,
it drifts out of me "it'll change soon,"

I open my hands and stare at the moon.