When a Sky Kisses a Sea

“THE LIKES I’VE NEVER SEEN”

He noticed the lip - of my petticoat,
his whisker's moved when he smiled.

“It's his way, Miss,” the door man
mumbled, "he has been given all that
life can give, and in one lifetime.”

We strolled down a steep hill to a
riverbed where rocks meet shells -
shells of orange, pink, purple, blue,
colors melt into sand -

“Perhaps today we should return to
fetch a carriage," he said as a gust
of wind turn him into a whirlpool as
water splashed against his face - a
single wave, soon a carriage followed
our footsteps as we neared the shore.

Hoofs splashed raindrops of mud -
turning I waved to the gentleman.

At the end of a single wave at the
ocean's edge I felt such power in a
single current rushing back to sea. . .

do we dare to change our clothes?
Will this gentleman watch?

Our toes touched cold waves as we
braved to take small steps, deeper
now the sea touched our knees -
our hands folding together as if our
bodies were touching -

A stranger called out as an echo –
his boat approached -
"Sand is growing some and water has
split pines near islands - covered
in water, some are." His voice familiar
to those from the back woods.

“That there Orphanage it will be covered
in water, you can bet on it. . .”

I glanced to where he pointed.

Tip toed from a sea as we sat on sand
observing planks of wood floating nearby
from a boardwalk we once walked -

People who sold apples covered with
caramel - brave enough to stay until
each window was crossed with tape - a
strange color green - as if a tornado
would soon dance through sunshine turned
white skin a shade of moss climbing pines -

Trees were talking – as if they too were
warning us like a stranger in his boat -
but how foolish is love as whispers from
a tree brought together lips - kissing,
arms - wrapped around each other as we
fell toward wet sand.

The same stranger yelled from his boat -
“Leave the shore," he pointed to a coming
storm.

All we did was glance into one another's
eyes and love – took over – as waves were
quiet, trees stopped blowing, and the sand
no longer wet - long hair covered by broken
shells; we made love.

We glanced toward the orphanage. Knowing
this stranger was correct as he grabbed for
my hand – a storm I had never seen.
We watched as sand was taken out to sea,
with colored shells, and stones - robbed
larger, weighty rocks – grabbed by a stronger
force then a rough tide as water left a
shore high and wide. A roar at sea, I
never heard the likes of . . .

Still he grinned, his mustache turned up –
he glanced back for the carriage man, he
too disappeared.

We never made it to the boardwalk – to
buy a candy apple.

A wind crossed earth as waves returned -
not knowing his kiss was a kiss good bye.

His focus - the orphanage at sea, as
he rushed to save children drowning or
clinging to a single piece of wood.

I glanced at a roof top where children
stood - no one there to wipe tears which
must have blended with sheets of salt water.

I found a body of a pine and wrapped
myself around it's trunk - stood to
watch life swept away - some floating
out to sea. Some who must have been
screaming as their heads bobbed, up out
of waves - one by one they disappeard.

I waited - now alone.

(c)2011 Nancy Duci Denofio