Chincotique
Chincotique's most pleasant path
is the one in my mind
as I close my eyes to sleep.
Thoughts drift through with leisure
as half dreaming I think
of the sunset in the marsh tonight-
Birds wading, drifting, floating
anything bluish will do.
Then the sky starts to simmer
the marsh starts to burn
with all the sunset hues.
The edges are the inside
of an oyster shell.
Blue turns to pearlish pastels
then simmers into the sunset.
Red and orange mingling
clouds and pools and ponds,
even the sea, reflect
the sun's last hues
as she disappears.
"one more wildflower"
she whispers
"before I go... one last bloom".
and she blossoms all over
into everything.
My barefeet feel the sand,
still warm
the ocean din grows louder.
I watch the whitecaps
like gulls
dissolving into spray.
And your moon Moon comes out
such a full moon
so close to this earth of ours
reminding me...
And slipping asleep
I see ponies, grazing.
One looks up at me
with kind eyes.
The sea breeze
is in my hair
in the pony's mane,
threads of thought
spun from pure air
and strolling
through a wildlife refuge.
October 1989 Southern Rose Review
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