by George Freek I stare at my unmade bed.Outside, a chilling breezerustles the dead leaves,as if they were feathers.The moon is a ball of lead.I gaze at distant stars,lost in the infinite sky,as if they hadnowhere to abide.A torn shirt, hanging froma tree, waves in the breeze,like an abandoned flag,now…
by Eleanore Lee Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine It flows, pours pastLike our loves?The waves are surging up Baker Beach shore(Fukushima-flavored waves, my love?)Yes, crouch on the wet sand and breathe in that cold roar! Did you remember yourBathing suit? Sandals? Me?Faut-il qu’il m’en souvienne…?Everything? Must I? Hand…
by Eleanore Lee Glow from belowWaves are all aboutHow we go. They’re aboutHow we see and hear. Sea undulatesAlwaysSurges and fallsHere bright glitterOf surface sparkleGleaming streamsThat pull and heave.Watch the wake!See the dolphins leap and plunge by the side of our boat, weaveThrough the water,up and down.Cataclysms of foamPour in…
by Eleanore Lee A yellow mist floats along the rim of the far hill. In the dawning spring it sprang up by itself. We didn’t notice it happening. It just appeared. Up close the juicy little leaves look like clover, But they’re not. The sparkling blossoms small and brilliant. No…