A water borne spirit
cries for comfort, aching for sand
and the whispers of
Poseidon's star cast wisdom.
The moon dappled dreamer,
bathed in wood smoke and blossom,
and the tart edge of broken grass,
hopes for salt on the wind.
Sturdy, grounded,
rooted deep in loam and clay,
but reaching seaward,
the soul's wish is to yield
to the rain
in the homebound flow.

Copyright 2004.

poetry