Salt Crystals

Salt crystals settle on my clothes
my hair, my skin
wind-whipped eye-lashes
open ajar
only to shut
as the next squall hits

When I breathe
I inhale unknown sorcery
older than the tree that floats us
but young enough to play
with straying minds

And looking down
I see white horses bucking
beneath the foam
graceful, gallant protectors
at the gates of Tír na nÓg

I tip my hat
as beckoning hands
and seaweed glances
peel out in whisps

With them I won’t grow old
or care about the cold
tears turn to salt
and tresses into gold

The next wave
looks like a mountain
it steals my thought
the moon trickles
a river
all the way
to my left sock

Posts created 22

Related Posts

Begin typing your search term above and press enter to search. Press ESC to cancel.

Back To Top
WP-Backgrounds Lite by InoPlugs Web Design and Juwelier Schönmann 1010 Wien