Postcard at the Beach
the open window
white sand shines in a naked
raked garden of dreams,
tattooed and ruled beneath the palms in
green dream energy, aqua sea bordered in an order of light.
Nightmares quartered and crossed
fill up the black room's cage
dancing above that tourmaline dream, gliding wall
to wall sleepless, betraying me with
a vaguely pulsing mind
an old and brittle life
too fragile, too cumbersome, chipped
yellowed posterboard not winged postcard
enough to pass
through that beckoning slot,
mailed to the beach
with no forwarding address.
Only a peeled off scrap
[stiff lifted script of 'Wish I was there']
pulled to that framing of light
by hooks of birdsong,
crams in sideways as shadows play
on a riffing surf, delivering
everything that's alive
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Open Link Monday
Susie Clevenger's photography was too good to have just one, so I did an encore with her shot of The Lighthouse at Punto Sur from Sunday's Challenge and hooked up with it here. Thank you, Susie. I see why they call you Goddess.
Image: The Lighthouse at Punto Sur, by Susie Clevenger
Used with permission.