At times I may speak too much of the sea. That is where my last lover came from,
This is my first poem to you. They’ll be many more as long as there are seasons to write them in.
Living without you On a love restricted diet Starving in the shadows Turning I saw your face on the wa…
SUMMER: I’ve been to the sea many times and each time it’s different. Each wave looks the same Rolling in Rolling out
You will not remember that day, that feeling of morning when we were held one to the other my laughter
If the sands of time that I have spent in tears were poured on me I would be crushed in a single moment.
Religion makes devils of us all. Pain puts things into perspective. “In the beginning...” we asked our… “Who we are, where we are and why… and we invented gods.
I have not seen of gods only men lying on their backs in the dust and children
At night I’d sit at my window and watch sidewalk strangers passing in the illumination of moon and streetlight
So many lost among battlefields and blood spills Letters written and never sent.
Like winter trees that dance with the wind bare its leaves
A sight this winter beach all white and desolate. I guess even the sea
Sitting on silent drift the ocean beside me. Wrestling waters paint the shore as the brush
Children swing north to south on grey rusted chains - red to them. Seasons move,
Riding to the water’s edge that da… Her and I on horses she’d ridden many times before.
