Bending Seagrasses

Corkscrewing, a wisp of pale smoke rises into the air;
hold me,
if one day I happen to pass through the colonnades of your mind—
war wears disquiet like a favorite black dress,
the shade of her lips urging sea grasses bend double
in silence.

Imagine a shore that bears unrest,
a child’s laugh without mirth and humor;

one by one
the soldiers have laid their lives, embraced the gravel,
the unspoken,
the very aspects of dwelling and death—
I get tired of people trying to tell me what ache is, waves white
crashing to and fro,
I won’t describe what it feels like only that
a betrothed hasn’t slept a wink for many nights; whispers, erupting
inside the soft cartilage structure of ear.
If, at any moment in time you too can relate,
meet me,
the moth grey sky recounts the roseate hue of sand; the roseate hue
of sand.
Do we ever forget?

 

 

 

Photo credits: “Bending Seagrasses,” by Laurel Daniel, oil 40×30

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Posted for Poetics: War Poetry @ dVerse Poets Pub