I flip my hair forward and breathe in the musky roots
-like a forest I hide there and follow the rootline.
Under dark mossy earth I escape into night shadows
of my deep brown and settle safely.
Harboring like a refuge-there where
I could be ten or twenty.
Behind the shutters of my face, peering out unaffected.
Safe and swimming along the shore of safe house I peer out
at the ocean bounce. Framed by expectation, away from the
shadows of worry. No one can find me here- safe
in my corner away from the ocean of pain.
No one can touch me here except my dreams
as they turn the corner and dissolve back from where they came
into the night shadows-dreams never done
that I dreamed years ago.
They repeat and roll back
like waves in the ocean never subsiding
and I like a shell covered in fragile seaglass.
Lifted by ocean wave they slammed against rock
until crushed and scattered.
Tossed and churned out of control-
edges melt into powdery, mottled, sculpted forms
reflecting a subtle softer light.
from dull grey to cobalt blue, sea foam white.
My edges, once sharp and eager
are now softened and tempered.
becoming pumiced and pitted
with each approaching wave.
Shuffling along with millenniums of
quartz, granite, and basalt through
high and low tide.
By the wink of moonlight
traveling dark waters bravely till
It must be the reason I gather them season upon season,
trying to find all the fragments
that have found the shore once more
as the ocean’s muddy fingers toss them back upon the sand.
I gather them in baskets so that I can remember.
Somewhere between two waves
between first and second base
is being submitted to journals
wish me luck!