Bayou Dreams

 

Wind-clash the riven sky melts away
and you are afraid

to know the cloven-oak

the dry-leafed eye that ponders you

the frosted sway of day-meld holding us
against the thought of night-swoon loons that cry

or alligator fry flowing below
the temporal disorder

cautioned by the allocated marshalling of woman life

and baby laughter on the wind-scud trees at night
where this breezy winsome motion of a smile beckons you

unto the blue-crane dew life of her pond-born eyes

 – Steven Craig Hickman ©2014 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.

 

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