The Bare Trees

The end of etymology is official

The sun’s morbid desire

cranes over heavy clouds

Autumn wind sweeps mournful hours

Fallen leaves bury unspoken voice





The fog stretches long arms over the cliff.

The sun patiently meditates in the sky.

Sunlight spreads a lacy handkerchief out from shroud of mist.

The ocean, as blue as your eyes, is singing.

With peace of mind,

I will dive into the eternal azure.


     Waves glitter the rock

     like the sun stirs memories of our summer

     Seagulls yearn for the west

     like I fingered over his skin

     Clouds waft across the sky

     like his footsteps faded out