Sea Spray

the wind blew rain on the dining room windows
like sea spray, this house rocking in the surf
half-lit flicker of a lamp crackles on the table
columns of wax wait for matches to flirt

quill in the ink well stalls for more time
wandering ponderings keep knocking
inside the captain’s waterlogged mind
searching on the map for x-marks-the-spot

no stars for navigation, blackened parchment sky
no rod for divination, the metal tip takes its sip
the bow lifts and paper soaks in salty brine
the wayfarer rocked seasick, eyes raining drips

quicksand waves offer no ghosts from the locker
only sucking in the next victim for its volume
read by legions of travelers ahead to follow
words scrawled on canvas for stargazing crews

~ EC

1.18.17

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With This Quill

With this quill

I speak my truths

to parchment plain

ivory fibers’ slate

silver tip scrapes

cursive curses

flourish of verses

spoken in heartbeats

swirled in downbeats

embellished vowels

drawn from deep

spun with care

to eyes that dare

to read my soul

in inked blood

taken from veins

toiled in vain

clotted on page

heaviness weighs

scented with death

evidence of life

lived in joy

lived in pain

lived in laughter

lived in strife

but
lived

~ Emily Clapper

7.15.16

“With This Quill” ~ AUDIO on SoundCloud

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