Her eyes knew my intent,
instantly. I turned to wonder if I should have been
a tree-climber, working my way to the top
of it all.
Boots on tight, me and a silent tree.
She said she wanted to stay the night.
Perhaps I could have been a
speed-walker, always shuffling away in that bizarre
sway.
Shoes on tight, me and a slight breeze.
I didn’t respond clearly, I was thinking about
sailing on the sea, salt water lips and sun
skin, free.
Wind’s blowing right, me and these salt-skin sleeves.
She said if she left, she’d never see me
again. I promised we would,
likely on the sea.
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4 comments
Comments feed for this article
March 1, 2011 at 5:47 pm
suzicate
Interesting, sailor, what that breeze can do for one!
March 7, 2011 at 1:00 pm
Marian
speedwalking away, yes that does look bizarre.
March 7, 2011 at 1:07 pm
BFG
ha, yes, agreed. Tried to have a little fun with this one – was meant to exemplify the contrast of interest – this woman was trying to pursue me, while I was thinking about speed-walking. A tinge of dark humour, perhaps grey humour.
March 25, 2011 at 2:37 pm
Jingle
you may see each other online or over the sea.
lovely emotions.
poets rally week 40 is on,
please come join us.