Embellishing the Picture

Surely there are islands of fiction

floating through the real to reel

projections of my days.

A hummingbird hovers

glimmering above the witch hazel,

a handsome camel, musically

inclined hums in a cornfield

flummoxed by time.

Nothing extraordinary as the beach glass

and the fog-split sky

amp up this summer brightness

along the clefts of Cattle Point Drive.

Each day, or not each day,

we are alive: wing-tipped

gargoyles, rosehips, pink slips.

Nothing exceptional

in the ferryman’s invitation to

please return to your car doors,

pelvic floors, back seats, geographies.

Why choose to live this one life

reluctantly? Instead, take this man

with the dimples out to dinner, take him

home to where new constellations

float above tiled rooftops

to where the moon, just watered,

arrives at your front door.

Originally published in the anthology In the Eye, Thunder Rain Publications