Wild

Riptide wind

whips house

 

hurling tiles

like ammunition.

 

I wake from

dream of you;

 

voice in my head,

sweet, lilting.

 

They say the

voice is mirror

 

of the soul

 

& yours

& mine

 

make

 

honey twisted

serpentine

 

across the space

between us.

 

Our melody’s

the same

 

earth tone

rise & fall

 

beneath the

bracket

 

of this sky

so wild tonight,

 

as we are.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s