National Poem Writing Month ’22: 25. Clasp of Life (or Is it Dream?)

Standing on the shore, the sail of life hazed at after-storm calm sea. The wet grains slipped when we hold each other clasp. You, she, were pointing beyond the ship, beyond the horizon but why should I pay heed to you. Storm ascending gulping the North Star. Again. Directionless I am. She smiled or is it just she slime smiled.

This is just dream I know pretty well and you’re Bonbibi, Lady of the Forest. I must wake up before time changes. I must take the rein of life b’fore it’s been late.

I must wake up.

Standing on the sidewalk, the commute disappearing at turn of the highway. The emptiness drying the clasp of ours; they were holding the dream of life being. You, she, pointed at the moon on the ascending evening sky–west-sun orange.

Beyond the horizon lie the horizon just like this dream that I dreamt of. Sleeping soul wet from surfed foamed waves of some lives, touched me and I touched, and dreams–fullfilled or long ago deserted. She knows more I have forgotten which. This is also a dream, I think so. You, she, mine Lady of Vine, Bonbibi. Nothing’s real nothing’s unreal.

Must I wake up?


One response to “National Poem Writing Month ’22: 25. Clasp of Life (or Is it Dream?)”

  1. I was hooked by ‘the sail of life hazed at after-storm calm sea’! I also love the juxtaposition of standing on the shore and on the sidewalk, to highlight the similarities.

    Liked by 1 person

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