Thursday, October 27, 2011

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.

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