finally alone with nothing
red and brown lidded we gaze at silence
spread sand of sleep in our two eyes of everything
and brush of breeze about our "Desert Homestead
complacent our anticipation

I come alone awake and bold
find no sign of yesterday
your sleeping home I paint with gold
at "Wharf at Manzanillo" wrapped in white netting
I have left gifts in your waiting boat

our conversations are balconies
of colorful houses our doors
are all open our fantasies
palm fronds flapping by "Hill Homes of Manzanillo"
our conversations are trees

all is but the shape of what you ask it
I myself am lush and flowery
put out fruit in many piles and baskets
I'm shapely and a little green at the "Papaya Market
all question to your answer

03/24/2008

Posted on 03/25/2008
Copyright © 2024 Kathleen Wilson