Saturday, September 02, 2006

a saving grace

I am fed through the night
as a momentum of clouds

The Goddess
has smuggled me here
under Her own veils.

I am recollected
like sand passed through sifting waves
each separate grain
becomes one tidal-pull.

There are steps over water.
A gauche fumbling.
I am a romance.

A castaway
to be rescued one day at a time.