Winter Escape to Barryessa

by silvershoes   Feb 6, 2012


We carve curved lines in the sand with
dead twigs of a sycamore.
She creaks above our tussled hair,
tired, too tired to bend with the violent gusts
that catch my breath each time.

A park bench is not far in the backdrop,
rotted planks host to a murder of crows,
braying and feasting
on our salted sunflower shells.
We watch them, indifferent.

I pull two coronas from an old backpack,
wet with condensation like morning dew,
and you cast handfulls of black pebbles into the lake.

When they break the surface,
it sounds like rain.

I know how you love the rain,
so as silver clouds turn to an angry gray,
and shadows fall upon us,
I don't have to see the smile
to know it's written across your face.

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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by Ronel McCarthy

    Fantastic imagery !

  • 5 years ago

    by Lonely Rider

    After I finished reading , I was just staring at it ... in awe ... the imagery has left me speechless. I really don't know what to say except that this is an exceptionally well written poem. Definitely going to my favorites for reference, to learn how to build beautiful metaphors.

  • 5 years ago

    by Decayed

    Jane... you are a goddess.

  • 5 years ago

    by Tara Kay

    Oh my god, I absolutely loved this.

    It was beautiful, the imagery and wording, it sounded so serene and simple yet I am sure there is much complexness to the lives of these people you describe.

    Isn't it crazy how we can see the emotion even if it isn't through tears or smiles, especially when the closeness is there, that just melted my heart, the ending.

    What a lovely piece this was.

    love xxx

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