The big open blues
Clouds and bubbles take the space
Can easily be plowed through

The feeling of freedom,
Weightless as it can be
Floating through the open blues

Splashing in the watery sky,
A sparkling smile hits your face.
That feeling of pure bliss,
Nothing is better

Hold onto that feeling,
This fleeting moment
Will leave on a whim.
Embrace it.
Let it flow through every fiber.

These moments are not meant to last,
A hair’s moment at best.
Take in the big blue seas,
The freedom of the open blues.

Water longed and gasped at the sunset colors above her
lapping them up in her mists and rolling waves
she took these tumbling breaths to exhale the palette across the bare sands, persuading them over and over again through time
till they too tumbled as grains in the radiant slurry

"There now, Earth and Sky. This is how we are One."

Her voice trembled under unsettling cold
breath hitched at starless dusk,
an ocean of black ink
drowning the moon's marvelous magic

Footsteps echoed her own
a balancing act in the dark
playing with unwritten spellwork
scattered in her shaken eyes

She wasn't afraid of what lurked
Beneath the running seas and crashing shores
the orbs that followed her
all but left to her cryptid-tale

In the lull
Of our constricted voice

In the hushing
Of our sullen realm

In the finite
Of our broken hinterlands

A watermark
No, rather

A barrow
A grave

Without inscription
Only handprints

In memoriam
Of the receding surf

Never heard
Never reached

My poem's salt comes from the sea
Awash with flailing kelp
And absorbed light, hidden and sweet
Like me.

It rakes the gravel with its fingers
Cooly rushing over its skin
Absorbed and intended back again
When the sun blushes ruby red.

Little seals dot the waves
Mirroring the clouds
Chuckling through their whiskers, beckoning
At the dogs on shore, faithful cousins
To these rotund sprites.

The dried up fields are far away
They gasp for the rain that's closing in
With the prettiest grey clouds
Crickets jump from the Terra Cotta
And spill the Summer air, little breaths.

While ores seep into the mass of blue
Rather than be claimed, and turn the bottom muddy
In pinks and oranges dulled by the jealous green.
The fish enriched begin to talk
And their blessings pip pop upwards.

I think it's beautiful that air goes down down deep
and finds the things that need to breathe.
If only I could follow it
And be consumed by some crease
And become the ocean too.

i sometimes imagine
boys with sunburnt skin falling
into saltwater seas
with laughter on their lips