Jocelyn

Your ghost Jocelyn, is here in this hot summer night,

As heat lightning flashes silently and brightly across

The far side of the like, where demons and dreams linger.

 

You’re alive still, having long outgrown me and our

Childhood games and mischievous days on the lake,

In the waters where mermaids bore us to Eden.

 

I am, alive, or perhaps dead, left with my own loss

And broken sleep and dreams that turn to ashes

As I try to close my hand around incense smoke.

 

I sit on the dock with a bottle of red wine, watching

The heat lightning that’s roar I cannot hear or touch,

Just as I cannot hear or touch your grace, now we are grown.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s