The Dunes

Sunrise, amber sky

Supping hues, my hungry eye

Ocean bluster, salty brine

Season views on which I dine


Bite that horizon with hungry pens

Write supple as the morning bends

Hear dawn’s chorus with ancient ears

Know my erosion in tracks of tears


There is no silence, day breaks glass

In broken shards of dew on grass

I know this sand beneath my heel

A thief of solace, to the dunes I steal


Up high, trade winds whip my lungs

Lashing each exhale with salty tongues

I crest a rise of shifting prose

Rhymes still warm between my toes


My finger parts the shifting grains

Still damp from passing treads of rain

Spelling words never tasted on my lips

Letters curve like a woman’s hips


The wind will wipe these words away

Like midnight tears in the light of day

Perhaps it will whisper them in your ear

And alone with your pen, you will feel me near







4 thoughts on “The Dunes

    1. Thank you Darren. There is a beach on the island called Polihale which means house of the spirits. I spent a lot of time there in the dunes and this poem was revisiting a memory of that place


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