Redux September 2011 – Night Dance

night-dance-pastel1

 

Haunted, he wears his ghost lightly.

Woven on phantom air

the dream descends like spent ashes.

 

Singing, with pointed sticks

he marks the wing of the lightning,

 as only a father might do.

 

Entangled in ghost tossed clouds

he follows his fractured dreaming

like a mother’s goodbye.

 

Haunted and enchanted,

he summons the cast of the moon,

the wash and cry of the sea.

 

The borders of sleep are burning.

 

 

Poem and pastel drawing by Clinock

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sailing

sailing now

sailing now

so close to your shore.

 

when first the chart was drawn

I don’t remember seeing

these rocks and shallows

between my battered boat

and you.

 

then it was

a fair wind on the sea.

gulls and mermaids danced for me

as I set sail

and nothing blocked

my breezy passage

to your beach.

 

now,

within reach,

I am scuppered.

 

throw a rope

or wade out amongst

these salty teeth,

take my prow,

guide me home.

 

photo and poem by clinock.