Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The Lost Weekend

A memory transposed
to a camera obscura...
Trappings of vacation sought
in a bovine tangle.

Ocean waves lapped
a forbidden mystery,
an anguish, a lechery,
in friendship and treachery.

Songs sung by mermaids,
as the tritons trenched
in gulf. A hum of misdirection;
the taste... bitter salt.

So faraway upon a breeze,
the hearth was
wind swept clean.

The waves remember
in cleansing prayer,
the beach was left

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