Sky rises and wheels in extemporaneous patterns arranged
by a west running wind – deep grammars of heaven written large
in cumulus, and nimbus, above the tree line.
From his car seat a boy sees a hundred furious horses
charge into terraced fields of smoke. With clouds igniting the horizon,
forcing the herd through vacuous eddies of stellar discord, the
front runners dissolving into cobalt blue.
Alone on a pier, at the gateway to endless depths,
two lovers stand rapt by the liberality of sky and water,
their soaring eyes marking ships ported in exotic
harbors. Ships once navigable by others now beckoning
them aboard in curls of pearl, onyx and gold.
An old woman pulls a quilt around her shoulders and steps onto
a weathered porch, watching the sun rise from behind a bank
of indigo velvet limned by light. A curtain pulled back
to reveal the reach of glory. Rising to meet the sun’s
caress, her face is gilded in timeless rest
In a moment,
The boy reaches out to halt the herd’s dash to oblivion,
The lovers reach in to take ship’s helm. The woman reaches up
to gather her blue tufted wings and silver wedding gown.