Sunday, April 11

By request

A close friend asked me to write something for them. This is the result. I rather like it.


High Tide

My feet see the line
that separates the water
from the soft sand 
as I walk down the beach.

Lingering yellow sunlight
insists that I notice
the horizon, but
my thoughts are 
elsewhere.

Years ago
walking this same beach
we talked and laughed
jumping over mounds of kelp.

Cool water and sticky sand
keep my feet directed
helping me in my
meandering.

Water rises around my knees
lunar cycles telling me
high tide approaches
shifting the sands beneath me. 

Harvest Moon blending
with 40 watt bug bulb and
stars on the hotel balcony
illuminate.

Memories of times
I cannot remember
surface for but a moment
only hinting at their mystery.

Musky salt heavy breezes
carry the laughter and footsteps
of lovers walking beneath my room
oblivious.

Nearby a radio plays an 
old Curtis Mayfield tune
leaning back in my chair
I prop my feet up on the rail.

Does the Moon feel the passion
of the ocean as it dances
its love melody each
night?

Fresh cool cotton sheets
feeling slightly moist
as they often do in
these ocean side rooms.

My fingers cause delicate
Jasmine flowers to fall from 
your thick hair as we
embrace.