October Bay

The bay is breathing

swell upon swell,

my mind is seething

words cannot tell.

Rush, rush.

Pedal like fury

arrive by the tide,

settle the hurry

breathe and abide–

Here lies your home.

Hush, hush.

Through bud and bone,

Rush, rush.

Let the current flow,

dimpled knees and river stone.

Yes, my love, I know, I know–

here in the sun, we are never alone.

Neck of egret, hoof of deer

bough of holly and butterfly wing

crab camouflage and cattail ear

acorns drop and ospreys sing–

Shush, shush.

Listen to the clouds,

the wind-thrown sails

speak without sound

a mariner’s tale.

Hush, my heart, the thunder comes

to wash its tears upon the sand,

rise the sea and hide the sun,

while we wait, hand in hand.

Slow, slow.

The storm will pass,

give way to dawn

like silvered glass

lightening gone

sky unmasked.

Go, go.

Take with you the night,

leave me my sunrise

incarnadine and bright,

words like sighs

whisper in your wake

dreamers arise

as dawn starts to break.

Slow, slow.

Summer is falling

sand through my fingers,

autumn is calling

leaf-turner, chill-bringer–

Go, go.

The oaks seems to say,

“No, no!”

we cry, “Stay away!”

Move closer in,

hold tighter as one,

what is and what’s been

cannot be undone.

Slow, slow.

The acorns are falling

pine needles rustle

kingfishers calling

cold creeping through muscle.

Falling, falling.

I am not ready.

Calling, calling.

My voice grows thready.

Hush, hush.

My rocking chair creaks

the waves seem to say

“No need to speak,”

but I’m fading away.

The sky is shell pink,

the mimosa tree bends

I fear even to blink

lest the summer take its end.

My daughter’s sweet voice

chirps a cricket lullaby

For her, I make the choice,

and turn home with a sigh.