Yearning

Two clocks beating point and counterpoint

Echo through the empty hallways. The fridge

Softly hums to herself in the kitchen corner.

On the breakfast bar, a grand fall bouquet—

Sunflowers, carnations, snap dragons,

Roses-- slowly wither away.

Outside the bay window, the dew-dappled

Lawns lined with perfect rows of palms 

Slowly warm to the rising sun.

Still, how I long to see the wild palms 
In their wild abandonment,

To see coconuts and fronds fall

And scatter to the wild winds,

To see them washed to the ocean 

To meet the wild waves.