Tenacatita Bay By An Anonymous Contributor |
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Sunrise A final star winks out : old lady moon drives by, sad and alone hunched in her 1989 white Cadillac : she’s off to rest all day in the chateau her second husband left her.
Black trees become dark green then lighter green – the whitewash of the sky is thinned with golden paint : the bay is an opal mirror where Daddy-o sun can see his bearded face.
Down in the village a tireless rooster welcomes the dawn, over and over : I wake, still drunk with last night’s wine, I live each day, over and over, and the green sunrise, and the long silence.
********* Sunset: Earth turns her back raises a lazy dark green shoulder eclipses herself : it’s time to return to that distant murmuring source of old and long-forgotten dreams.
Over the bay there drifts a silent haze, a skiff returns in the old day’s light painting a single silver line towards the land: almost without hope, almost without motion.
I see the world turning and turning each day re-lived in endless whirl: and tell my lonely soul, go down to find Eurydice – hoping and hoping for that long slow journey home. |
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