I watched a hawk catch a small fish from the lake. His perfect form, the envy of witnessing geese, and clumsy dogs and noisy seagulls. Were the other fish mystified by the sudden disappearance of their friend? Did they swim quickly away in fright and apprehension, having their lives pass before their cloudy, bulging eyes?
the beauty of decay
my thoughts fall, as does the yellow pollen–
blowing gently away with the summer breeze,
landing like golden sugar dust on the dog’s tail
I am a traveler swimming in strange and mystic waters.
I am a trader searching for peaceful horizons
and hospitable harbors.
I am a drifter floating and following yellowed and aging maps.
I am a Peter Pan pirate of sweet and guazy dreams.
I am the captain of my own destiny.
What if today was a day where you took a long walk in el parque Guell, or stopped to rest on a stone bench?
What if today you laughed with a friend and drank your coffee at a mosaic table?
What if today you let your thoughts smoulder, like the sweet smoke from your cigarette, in my direction?
How would I ever know?
a small yellow butterfly
a young osprey
three downy ducklings
a stunning sunset
grey seagulls
honking Canada geese
a tiny chipmunk
a great blue heron
two delicate dragonflies
and a soft peach rose
August leaves begin to fall, gently and quietly.
I take notice of their crimson coats and feel the curious
compulsion to lick the morning rain from their tender skin.
dragons on the dock
I will meet you there, in a dream forest of jade and obsidian alcoves, in the dawning dusk at the platform by the stilled waters. I will meet you in a hushed whisper and a silent embrace. And I will pretend the soft breeze is your mighty hand caressing tired shoulders and blowing my hair and my fear away from my aging face.
The lake water rolls toward the old docks,
an unseen force urging it home.
spanishwoods 