for Tressia
At night I’d sit at my window and watch sidewalk strangers passing in the illumination of moon and streetlight
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.
At times I may speak too much of the sea. That is where my last lover came from,
I left today or did I? I kept telling myself that I was going home so I could be alone
So many lost among battlefields and blood spills Letters written and never sent.
I have not seen of gods only men lying on their backs in the dust and children
This is my first poem to you. They’ll be many more as long as there are seasons to write them in.
A sight this winter beach all white and desolate. I guess even the sea
I wish you were like the shells I’ve collected through the years. I know they can’t wash away anymore
As I sit and watch the moonlight vibrate on the horizon tossed from wave to wave a tear drops down my cheek.
Children swing north to south on grey rusted chains - red to them. Seasons move,
The rain is like an old love song. It’s been with me many times before, to call me to sleep
If the sands of time that I have spent in tears were poured on me I would be crushed in a single moment.
Come with me and I will paddle us across the south side of heaven. I’ll spread out a handful of stars
You will not remember that day, that feeling of morning when we were held one to the other my laughter