rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Later

Orion long gone, the dipper has wheeled around to where it is clipped by the pine, and the east grows ever so slightly deep blue. At last the heat has subsided enough to silence the frogs, and the sleep-enamored town holds silence to itself like a blanket. It is possible once again to shiver, just a bit. Unstirred, the air hangs from the darkness, waiting to be folded back by the advancing light. A sprinkler clicks on and sends mist to drift beyond the reach of its chattering stream. Alive now with sound, the air trembles, all anticipation, and sighs to touch the new leaves.



Sunday Verse


Shifting Sands

by Jacques Prevert


Demons and marvels
Winds and tides
Far away the sea has already receded
and you
Like a strand of seaweed gently caressed by the wind
In the sands of the bed you shift while you dream
Demons and marvels
Winds and tides
Far away the sea has already receded
But your eyes are half open
Two little waves are still there
Demons and marvels
Winds and tides
Two little waves to drown me.
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