Saturday, July 4, 2015

Sweeping the Salt Away

All day you move just out of sight
a flicker of thought flashing
through the corner of the eye
canted toward a past day

Dusk arrives-- my longing rises
all my windows and doors
laid thick with salt
keeping you at bay

Stars gather overhead-- there is no moon
I sweep the salt from the sill
open the door
and sleep

I feel the heft of you
your shoulder and ribs
heavy against my leg
your dear face held within my hands

Dreams gather and release
breath rises and falls
sighs drift through the open door
a mourning dove calls the dawn

Wake and sweep the salt away

                        Pamela Olson, 7/4/2015

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