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Sandy Beaches and Unmade Beds
by Jared OrlandoWe are on our way--
Instead of the road, I watch while
Shadows are casted from our surroundings
Projected into your incandescent eyes
I'm watching Audrey Hepburn, black-and-white,
Dancing wildly in the guise of trees bending
Over our travels; and thus I see forbidden roads;
I point them out as you unconsciously bite your lip
In my passenger seat you become alive
As the twists become turns
And through the rearview
I see windy vignettes of
Your soft hands clutching
The inside of my green (it's brown!) jacket sleeves
Dissolving into shivering,
A blustery, sandy beach giving way to an unmade bed
I'll pretend the radio dial
Is a corner of your lips
Hoping for different frequencies
In your smile, of a distant kiss
I won't stop turning
And together we search for the sweet sound
Of memory, of a passionate past progression
Head first into an unknown
We are going further, and conversely becoming closer.
Let's hope we never get to where we are going,
and thus let the cities that lay ahead stay in shadow. 08/05/2013 Author's Note: Wouldn't that be nice.
Posted on 08/05/2013
Copyright © 2024 Jared Orlando
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/06/13 at 12:43 AM Great title, Jared. Love the ring of it, and how you expand on it in the text of the poem. Fun read. |
| Posted by James Cavet on 08/06/13 at 05:38 AM Very fluid imagery. I could see it all in my head and that the hallmark for me; seeing it. |
| Posted by Johnny Crimson on 08/07/13 at 07:07 PM Quite excellent. Keep turning the dial, she'll eventually feel it...or it'll fall off. Equal merit. |
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