Our words met
before we ever did.
Now you are distant
these words reach out -
passing clouds instead.
Your words glisten
like pearls in shells
scattered on the shore
of my week.
I thread them
like beads of tears,
and one by one
they fall with
evening's light
along this string,
close to my heart.
I watch the moon toss -
a ghostly galleon
in cloudy seas,
pulling the tide
to you, this night.
before we ever did.
Now you are distant
these words reach out -
passing clouds instead.
Your words glisten
like pearls in shells
scattered on the shore
of my week.
I thread them
like beads of tears,
and one by one
they fall with
evening's light
along this string,
close to my heart.
I watch the moon toss -
a ghostly galleon
in cloudy seas,
pulling the tide
to you, this night.
© Jennifer Phillips (All rights reserved)
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| Ghostly galleon © Jennifer Phillips |
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