As morning lifts

my dark curtain of night;

sea-gulled and wing’ed;

warm, satin bright.

She scatters the dust of a billion stars;

grace sweeping our universe here to Mars.

I’m grateful for her gifts…

For Sabra

A Piece of Driftwood

What’s left after a long and stormy night?
Your life! You’ve weathered all it had to give.
You, old beach relic, tell of such a plight
that, as a fond reminder, through it lived.

I’ll take you home with me; far from this sea.
We’ll rock upon my porch and dream of days
when we were straight and tall and running free.
No blisters snarling at bent bones or stays.

Your tone now bleached and white, this much I know:
that there’s uncanny smoothness to your touch.
The wind and rain have made you victim. Though
it takes a while, slow nature teaches much.

I’ll keep you, bit of soul from off that beach.
A heart’s companion; still it likes to teach.