Goodbye

 

Distracted

by the search for words.

Attic

Relics

The old street

A man selling hot pretzels,

peanuts from a cart.

Letters, photos

tied into bundles.

There should be a word,

to throw

over the shoulder

like salt

or rice

for luck.

 

***

 

This Light

 

…is mint green through the trees,

a red splash across the clouds,

golden strands skimming open fields;

If love is not enough

at least there is this light.

 

***

 

The Beach

 

The Day:

Oh what comes on the wind.

What air, what light

can do to a day.

 

The lighthouse,

all whitewash

schoolhouse red.

 

The Dream:

When wind and light diminish

I dream white rocks stained red,

fire, flames and whirling flesh.