Would you wear my eyes?
Sunken ships from years on end
Vessels tired, sails tattered rags undone
Groaning under nature's weight
The passing of an ancient storm
Folklore etched in weathered skin
Decades lost and found again

The tautest rope, the final dock.

Word Sketch 1

Locusts
Cul De Sac
Forget Yourself in Sleep
Windshield
Indian Summer
Wandering
Last Days of the Season
Memorial Elms
Private Drive

Private Drive

Just as I thought we had miles to go
There we were.

Cyan Sunday afternoons collected and sung to sleep
Stretching out, exhausted and thankful to exist at all
Not rocking or raging or bitter but tranquil and glassy

A low rolling fog skating along the cream
Sherbert reverb pulsing along the hinge where sky meets sea.

And I was thankful to be here at all.

Overnight silence coats our deepfreeze town
Pillowy breath hangs
Suspended signs of life

Head hazy with vaporous dreams
Suddenly in the passenger seat
Delivering me towards the groggy rising sun.

Sun-bleached melody pushing honey waves
Wrapping it's sticky call around the nape of my neck
Pulling me with it's tide.

The Swimmer

Gotta stay afloat
Find my way back home
Fighting with the water
A castle for my moat

All the houses look the same
Secrets held in a-frames
In my ivory tower
Swimming round for hours

Sundown approaching I've got miles to go

Nothing looks the same
Driveways spit with rain
The swimmer's in his lane
As summer rots away

Parties dancing on
All night long
Without him

Souvenir

I feel sad, I feel something thin
The nervous glance on the edge
That nothing you almost forgot to pass
Something forgotten, past

A thing I held on to ever-last

Don't leave me love
I didn't forget your wonderdful smile
I never got past the sweetest miles
We traveled as a pair, a facsimile
Still meant the earth to me.

A thing I held on to ever-last.