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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4660 Registered: 11-1998 |
Poem of the Week Sailing with Charlie Red Vienna (Carole Barley) Fragrance here drowns even Laroche, smudging pearl-diver accents of salt glint across faces turned anew to diamonds trawled, slipped though lazy fingers in crazy lacework wakes. These are days of slant-shouldered ease, crossed ankles silvered with tiny bells; breathing in with eyes closed and daring hushed stars to speak. “And there are no letters in our alphabet, ways of chin tilt and the shy exposure of sun-eyes feed souls served ragged on sticks gone through the fire.” The first cat paw kneadings find warm, find skin through cotton; find things like Never-Let-Go. We walk smaller in colder climes, shed plumage, stride instead of dance; cast off drunkenness limboed to us by steel bands played in moon-rolled bays. “Sailor, tint your cheeks tan, breath audibly at dusk beneath the pomegranate trees, remember the sashayed steps that led to the edge, hum the tune.” Even now, I scream to raise the sails on the boat we would have, its burnished decks laden with all the exotica we just can’t put our fingers on. |
