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Onward to August
by Alison McKenzieThe air here weeps,
A fine mist followed by
A downpour of outright insanity.
The moisture helps it
Slip into my bones
On the exhale,
Pausing there to ache
Right to the core.
The horns from the harbored ships
Draw my mind into the water
To dance with the otters,
Sing with the orcas
Until I utterly drip,
Wander the shores
Searching the sand
For treasure and truth,
Knowing each is elusive,
Camouflaged by unworn crusts.
Despite the constant drench,
I feel renewed,
Full of bulbs waiting to blossom,
Another spring tease
Promising escort to summer.
01/23/2011 Author's Note: I love living here!
Posted on 01/24/2011
Copyright © 2024 Alison McKenzie
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Adam Dyson on 01/24/11 at 09:12 AM You have an amazing ability to remind me of what I take for granted, at times, living by the sea. There's a life energy to it that I know I would miss if I were too far from the coast. Wonderful vivid write, thank you! |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/24/11 at 07:43 PM Thanks for sharing so acutely what I miss from that area. (well, except for my hair that goes ker-frizz) |
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