She sat on the shore and watched the sea. She watched the sea so intently, and for so long, that she could see the tides rise. She could discern that gradual shift from among the undulations & sea state changes. But she was seeking a ship that would never return.
Bury the ordinary,
but make sure to
chop it out at the roots.
Nothing grows back more tenaciously
than the commonplace or the quotidian.
Sometimes what grows
back from those roots
looks entirely different,
but it's still mundane.
It has the same feel,
even when it has a
very different look.
Kill it.
Murder it.
Chop it up.
Bury it,
and let it die the death
of the forgotten.
the sun so bright
that not only water glows
but, also, the sand
ordered black coffee,
they brought a plate of cookies,
well-played, love won.
liquid gold flows
around rocky monoliths
and then sun sets
grass so thick & dry
that i avoid mere thoughts,
incendiary
folded butterfly
might pass for a leaf,
if not bright orange
rocky tops stand out,
above the ocean waves,
but what lies below?
Tiger Riding for Beginners 