Refractive Index

Source: Davetname

Drowning

Do not mind the tide pushing in and pulling out

Or the waves falling and rising

In perfect scales

In lovely cadence

One and two One and two and three One and two

Hold your breath And play This music

Until the sea In its admiration Smothers your Last

Note.

-Skye

Eternal

So lovely to stroll in the sun amongst the rambling stones draped in hydrangea the Victorians so loved their flowers

Hands held tight our chatter lively who knows what the long dead think of lovers

of desire

I pull you to a huddled assembly of marble decked in lichen beneath the primordial maple well rooted in the dead

I want this eternity the worn stone the opulent branches throwing cool shadows

but only with you two stones leaning in 100 years on.

         -Skye

“ I’ll find you in the morning sun” Billie Holiday / I’ll Be Seeing You.

St Mary’s, Reigate, Surrey.

Source: Winter tree and three crows, by Takeuchi Seiho (1890).

Haiku- In Winter Trees

Crows weigh on branches All wearing winter twilight Chattering with me.

-Skye

Artist: Nester Formetera Source:peepchic

The Last Kiss

We came together in the end Lips pressed close Eyes closed to who we had become Just before parting.

-Skye

Bioluminescence by janey-jane on DeviantArt

Source: deviantart.com

Milky Way

Hera

There is an old story of you Concerning one of the many slights Heaped upon you By that husband of yours

Cavorting with the mortals Sowing seeds in the dirt

Proudly he loved those mud children To your face

Once he even pressed one of his Bastards to your breast To feast upon you

You pulled away Your goddess milk spraying across the heavens New rivers of stars tangling in your hair

-Skye

Pysanky - Ukrainian Easter eggs - photographed in 1981.

Preparing for Easter

I wonder who thought of this to take an egg and blow its guts out

To pass the yolk and white into a bowl discards for morning scramble or cheese omelet

Then with wax and fine brushes decorate with exquisite patience an empty shell

Photographer: Tartarchuk Nikolay Source: elinka

The Dead Sea

Quicksilver Crystalline Cut with milky sun Salt grows Out of barren Water.

-Skye

Image information: Noonday Rest, 1877 by Rosa Bonheur

Midday

The midday sun breaks over the oak four cows and one black horse doze lightly in dappled hides

The crickets are quiet the breeze is drowsy leaving each cloud in its place

Everything waiting for the slipping sun to fall

A little

For the breeze to freshen

A little

Then farmer will emerge sleepy eyed from the cool root cellar and call his cows (and the one black horse) home for dinner.

-Skye

Image Credit: Shusaku Takaoka Source: angiefalaji

Saturday Night on the G Train, 1972 (As told by Old Joe at Valley Vista Rest Home)

Swaying with train car Home bound after a long night of drinking I was looking down At the dirty chipped and gummy tiles Feeling a little sick

I heard the door grinding open And she plopped down in a rustle of beaded lace Sitting legs spread wide Like a man with a come-hither body Topped in a rabbit fur coat Right there in the corner seat Almost across from me

I looked up Into Mona Lisa’s Smirking face

I swear it though no one ever believes me Don’t blame them 1972 was a rough one I really was fucked up back then

But there she was in all her glory That smile I will never forget

She asked me for a cigarette Just before the next stop

And when the doors opened Off she went Clomping a little in her righteous rhinestone platform shoes Right off the train, onto the platform And back out of my life.

On Loving a Poet

A poet speaks Imprecisely

Leaves room between words

Your voice so exacting in your desire terrifies her

As if you would pin her meanings to the pages

Turning wonder Into dead butterflies

You love her but cannot fathom her language

You drown in it Reaching for her

Placid on the far shore She throws pages and pages

Written for you Into the wind

-Skye