This poem is the first part of a three part story. Follow the blog to know right away when the second and third parts are published.
I A Pacific Morning
The sky a sapphire blue and the sea, emerald green
together, tangled seamlessly in the horizon
a tired old figure seated upon a rocking chair
swaying back and forth like the ships of the harbor
warm and gentle winds disturbing the sails, playfully so
playing with the gray wisps of hair still lingering
a low mist, like the veil of a bride hangs over the bay
a song, a whisper, a soft call through the mist:
waves washing to the shore, caressing the rocks,
teasing my ebbing mind and calling for me
sapphire blue and emerald green, a glint of darkness
a perfect mixture disturbed, a piercing breeze
reaching the balcony, my aged bones shivering
a subtle smile not for anything, a memory
sharp and smiling eyes, the stilled horizon
a storm approaching, of that there is no doubt
twilight gathering in the distance, not unlike then,
that day, a lucid vision from a lifetime ago.
Museless Thoughts 
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