Continuum

Days move in and out 

like the tide

 

sometimes

calm, rhythmic

 

other times tribal 

erratic

 

like a wild 

disturbed beehive 

in the forest

 

or aunty’s hair

cut from funeral

 

shore rocks will show lines, 

face might too

 

and

every night

sun

 

the giant orange

will burst

citrus across

the sea like a good

f**k

not a care

in the world where

the clothes land.

 

 

 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

last five lines...priceless...love the use of "f**k" here...not a word i often like in poetry, but there are sometimes, it just has to be used because it really fits.

love those erratic days...never know what to expect, but they are a ride aren't they?