protean muse

sometimes I am in a foreign land.

the water lapping the shore

touches lips the same

it explores my system

like strangers with their eyes.

cliff faces fondle me when I perch

on jagged smooth sentiments

our exposure changing us both,

leaving one another

just as we were found.

there is a whole life in your face

just as there were traces of ancient breaths

during a coughing fit last year

when friends I hadn't met were far from

wearing a shroud of green moss

as I came to them with a chisel,

bleeding,

forgetting what I held in my hands.

Labels: poems, poetry