Broken Shores

Broken Shores

I try to dream the hard ground from your eyes
so that you do not appear so rough and brown.
but I am weary of these adjustments.
You are a clean shirt on an rusty clotheline,
the pins stain the seams of your shoulders.
You are lovesick for the beaches and islands
of your adopted homeland, where you met someone,
a topaz palette that flung her dark hair above you.
You believe I am a pearl, not rare and ivory,
but common here, in this land of white houses.
There is no sun left in my compromises,
 no jocular petting away of your small journeys
into the amber arms of other women.
I am fixated on myself now.
Spineless credit has blown away in angry winds.
I offer my jealousy to the new goddess of your infidelity.
I will run to the dream I had before you, inside myself,
reviving myself, in the beautiful veranda I built,
that sways a fine spray of Spanish moss.
I will find my reflection in a shop window,
whirling in my soft skirt, humming love songs
to sweet bloodroots and irises , flexing my feet
in soft earth, gone native.

Reviews

[Tracie Skarbo]

I offer my jealousy to the new goddess of your infidelity.
I will run to the dream I had before you, inside myself,
reviving myself, in the beautiful veranda I built,
that sways a fine spray of Spanish moss.

I love this...I am glad you have awoken and are now loving yourself as you should be loved. Great piece

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Wow... I see a lot of self redemption in this creatively emotional piece. Very nicely done again.