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Ruth Hill Page 3
Floating in a sailboat tambourine ripples dancing on the lap strakes sleeping in salt marsh hay jigging up ling cod watching whales belly flop killer whales swallow swimming bears great sunsets and foul seas making kelp fishnets talking to an octopus jumping off crashing surf to collect seagull eggs candling dogfish oil walking with the white bear sleeping under a cougar tree Sitka deer in the tent with a baby named Fawn white wolf befriending little boy an eagle guarding us ravens bringing us mushrooms sea otters bowling us over to play making sea cucumber necklaces downwind with dolphins ~ we ~ fly ~
Heather Explores
heathers on the dun dunes run as a jib moon sails underneath my wheel undulations reel sinuous sand trails a glittering twittering swallow follows lavender and mauve wave rivulets in low mossy bog reflections on glossy fog ripples purple as the sun sets the surf is shushing, shushing dark’s dank down, done night mists form lachrymae to lay tenderly on each heather bloom hid in the evergreen and brun but wait with me, please this quaint breeze will rise haunt you with gaunt cries flaunting, flailing: the lonely bride, the single mother jilted lover, the two become one away, the stray, son, gone to gun you’ll hear them wailing in the wind You’ll dream of escape from this cape in the morning: no more mourning However, on your way ‘home’ foggy fingers long and bony centuries old who sentry only reaching will impeach you infuse you with confusion foul your lungs ʼtil you, too, howl echo in your new locations affect your past and for-relations infect vocations and vacations per-pe-tu-al-ly wail-ing this cape your cape forever a mantle on your mantel will never let you go this dawn is gone you’re gnawn in the known, now
© Copyright, 2015, Ruth
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