by Harry

Submitted by


At the edge of the ocean, where moon-flowers drip silver rain. That’s where she is. The woman, dead beneath ship less waves, spreading her light in blues and insolent greens on faraway beaches where she plays with girls and boys, calling them ‘dear heart.’

Smiles brighten and break. Tears squeak in the sand.

I cannot be touched with words anymore. Only visions work. Nudity covered and clothed in rainbows, flowers, and the sea. Don’t talk to me of priests and cathedrals but of leviathans and children. Bright fields that rock and roll. The fisher maid and the pirate song.

Speak to me, instead, of pebbles and seaweed, hair flying. The underworld salon where she fixes her hair.

She drifts with ancient insanities in a place before history or religion. I am left to stand against the fall of snow, to live outside her world, listening to lovesick songs. Tears start. Tinkling’s vibrate in my chest. Long to be close, I cannot, but each morning I kiss the summer dawn.

2 Comments to “Requiem”

  1. I love this piece. It is very well woven, a tapestry of visuals that rip at my heart. There is a lot of sorrow in this.

If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: