So Blue

meet me on the moon
I’ll be on the silver beach
toes in sand
wiggling
pondering the view

binoculars aiming down
to rapidly crumbling earth
I’ve got my books and blanket
chilling
on the sunny side of moon

wave to me when
you’ve found my bit of heaven
I shouldn’t be hard to miss
being the only one
waiting

meet me on the moon
I’ve saved you a kiss
(perhaps a little more
I’ve reserved
for our dessert)

let’s sit back and watch
as armageddon ends the mess
let it blow, implode, destruct
we’ve got no reason
to go back

hold me close, my love
I’d rather be with you
than on the planet we left
that used to be

so blue

~ Emily C.

3.27.18

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Pull

Raindrop ticks like a clock
Regular in its rooftop beat
Gently tocking seconds drip
Marking time as eyes drift to sleep

In morning light the day will wake
And so dissipate sound sleepers’ dreams
The liquid hands tomorrow will brake
Leaving less to signal night’s sly return

To wind the sky in tightened coil
Or rather assign the moon timekeeper
Who are we to command rainless skies
But entranced subjects of her tidal pull

~ Emily C.

12.20.17

Tide of Stars

Prayers at the shoreline to distant gods,
mantras and chants for mystery maker.
Dark matter ripples gently move her hair.

Evening storm retreats, trailing shocks strike
as parting clouds evaporate like dried tears
she cried once, for life’s loves, lives lost,

while tidal waves yawn on black horizon,
swallowing all with a smacking crash,
closing in upon her beach this night

until in dark consuming light she sees
tides of stars at her bare feet, collecting
along moondust sand with each lick of waves.

In her graceful aging youth, never to be old,
she smiles — the stars gathered in her palms
chime as diamonds might in a gathered dress

that flows along winds of time — which pauses.
One dainty swirl and scattered again, they fly…
in the distance, a shooting star aims for her heart.

~ Emily C.

 

6.25.17

The Hidden

coyote unafraid,

howls beyond.

moon bows

in reverence,

while chickens

are on the run.

fearless canine

curiously hunts

the hidden.

when sun sets

forbidden faces

appear tracing

nocturnal scents.

blood lets

from veins

severed, attempts

to escape, fail.

tomorrow will only

come for some.

~ Emily C.

2.22.17