Something vagrant like the breeze

Something vagrant like the breeze

There is a calling out through the chimes

in the narrow spaces

between neighbors and lives.

It spares you the voices

by carrying them off

beyond padded hills

it sprays the waves and

displays a dance of palms.

It’s whistling in the ironwood pines

ringing the bells of flag poles.

These traveling companions;

wind walking beside me, on a lane, leaves lonely

the moon balanced on a ridgeline

Behind the clouds, the peeking stars, the fast moving sky,

quivering leaves of descending eyes

dripping tears on parched skin

like a  blistered asphalt whim

and a plumeria leaf that rolls to its completion

only to begin again.

Dancing against fences

like specters climbing chain link.

Finding their fallen amongst the tangle of trees.

Leaving a prayer to this motion,

weaving an offering on the river top,

a thought as the sun goes down and the sky goes out,

something to begin and end with.

Empty me into the sea

with currents that speak of waves

that breach the empty beach

of stars you could practically reach.

Night is but an unprepared speech

that echoes in an empty hall.

Fall rain, burst from a swollen vein,

carry me through rivers of blood and drain

these streets of debris

tree trunks and mud wash through the city

like an emphatic victory.


7 thoughts on “Something vagrant like the breeze

  1. cherylmoore says:

    This is a beautifully written poem.

  2. The imagery is so alive!

  3. cindy knoke says:

    Love your poems and your photos!

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