Beryl stained green eyed ocean
jagged gems frozen
in razor sharp
excommunication.
Old Man Winter has honed
your icy knives.
Bindweed, churlish,
your summer blooms
now dead,
are only a dim memory
of warm
summer mornings.
Circuitous you embrace
frost rimed driftwood
in the silver aching cold.
Gaunt skies loom
gigolo
to heavy pig iron clouds
forging gothic vaults
sculpting the heavens.
Gulls wheel formation
a weary collage
of feathered ingots
sinking low.
They settle
fatigued
on this December's
unforgiving shoreline.
Lea (Leaway56@aol.com)
Watch these pages for more poetry by Lea.
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