Na Mata

Between blues skies and tangerines
frogs sing in trees
children swim naked in dark waters
the smell of green fills your lungs
with life, rich and hopeful.

Light vibrates through the foliage
dancing on the forest floor
to shimmer across the body
of a lover’s embrace
like a silent movie kiss.

The heat rises in misty wetness
obscuring the farthest recesses
of this jungle’s memory
where sleeping magic waits
your return from hunger.

“Return to me,
come, come…”
is the call.

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The Way Long

The air is still chill though
the sun shines bright
no one notices the blooms
that push past winter
as they pass through
the archway into the darkness
of this stone fortress
memories once held finer times.

So much lost with time,
seconds dull the senses
yet the search continues for
a place amongst the stones
only mortar, leather and wool,
curtains and curtsies,
that can never go back
It’s a long way home…

OpenRoad

Seasons

in the face of

trembling color captured

while planning the fall

Impetuous fever

blushes

‘cross satin cheeks

while someone watches

Bitter apples

bite back

blood-stained lips of regret

while sandcastles die

Shedding armor cast

earthward

like warm summer rain

while riding the release

Thunderous music swells up

inside out

creating waves across skin

while the skies part

flavors and tones…

lost their

seasons.

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