The Wind Shifts Like This

Warm winds billow white sheets
In the summer sleep of childhood.
The green rustles like shoreline trees.
All the hours are filled with fruit
And the fruit ripens like the light.
Tied to stakes in the ground
The garden regenerates its dreams.
We walk through white sheets
And see our beautiful mothers
On the other side of space.
We walk back through sheets
Leaving the forms in place.
Love is childhood’s point of sail.
Each sheet is a cloud capture.
Each moment is a sunrise.

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 )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s