Do you really read a book?
I wonder if you do
Or just turn pages for a look.
Reading leads to new places
Down rambling roads
Often to new times and faces
Books can make you laugh out loud
Others leave you breathless
On new grounds or into clouds
With new books you never know
Where it goes
Warmth of sun or freezing snow
I’m always reading a book or two
Never knowing what I’ll find
Some are joyous, some are blue
They always take me somewhere new.
Oh, watch the waves, their rolling sounds
Whiteness at the break, turning, twisting
Flowing, tumbling, such roaring they make
Carving their white way with crushing force
See our twisting lives spread before us
Bound and tossed like heavy waves
Ground and crunched on rolling sand
By sun and rain, swells and calms
Dwelt and scanned with petty moments
Raked by salt, brushed and polished by wind,
Our eager lives, lived and shaped by ripping sand.
I loved her once, or maybe twice
Remembrances strain through the
Dust of tattered yesterdays.
Even her breasts, her hips that twisted
Me through soft whispers, now gone.
Wings that fluttered turned limp and cold.
Perhaps I remember her face, but
Now the smiles allude me.
The eyes so blue tossed love away
In sodden blinks of guile.
Covers of soiled snow, bypass the sun
With long-gone trickles of love.
Her breasts an icy glaze, lost in clumsy steps
Of melting snow.
