Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Seychelles

With the lisp of water over sand
her voice awakens the sleeper
to a gull-blue day.

Gold and kohl lines the creases
around her eyes and her toes
carry the russet dust
of Africa's trails.

Her fingers linger
over shallow hollows
of inner elbow,

her voice makes patterns
in the mind of the sleeper
like waves upon sand,

today's paper awaits.

2 comments:

didi said...

Did I read you were working on the last line? Those islands off Africa are beautiful. Have you ever seen pictures of them?

d.

burning moon said...

they are gorgeous. I love the names of them too. I was fiddling around with the last line but I've thought about it for a few days and I think maybe I'm finished.