Clouds, charcoal and white,
are fringed with a golden glow,
tumbling like puppies at play, fake-ferocious,
and without stop
until they drop,
exhausted, to lull with doggy grins
over gray-green Atlantic waves
that echo their play—
here the whole world sways–
and the gulls cry in syncopated beats
completing the symphony of breeze and sea–
steady breaths,
in and out
as the amber beach grass dances
and the wind brushes my cheek
in a salty kiss, a tingle, a promise
in this mystique
of what is, was, and might be—
everything luminous, electric,
connected,
alive.
For Day 2 of NaPoWriMo. The prompt was: to “write a poem about a specific place — a particular house or store or school or office. Try to incorporate concrete details, like street names, distances (“three and a half blocks from the post office”), the types of trees or flowers, the color of the shirts on the people you remember there.”
I chose to write a poem based on a place in a painting that my mother painted. I have no idea if it is an actual place she visited, or when she painted it. The figure is kind of odd, but I’m captivated by the movement of clouds, waves, and grass, and well, this probably isn’t a finished poem either.
I’m also linking this to dVerse’s Open Link Night, where Grace is hosting.
