but I lost my footing
as one rush bled into another
& I was sure I’d reach you
the way the vanity of storms at
sunset
reach for the pulse of the tide
when the pavement dives
beneath
the sand
&
all I can offer you is the blurry neonoutside the taqueria
the evening
mist
settling in for the long
haul
your
errant passion my autographed copyof the sky over El Segundo
& palm trees anchored in the fog
like shadows
that scratch your name into
smoked glass rippling
just beyond the point
the
feathered breeze falling over damp colors
the strings tuned according to some
obscure
theory
of harmony as your eyelids cultivate a moonlit emotion
like the
sound of waves
in
a eucalyptus grove 20 miles from here
