The Wind Storms Outside

by Bea Garth

copyright 2008

Your curtains billow

and gleam slightly of gold

as we talk of forests, seas and continents,

the gods having raised their fists

at each of us

and we, like two Odysseus’

finally meet to tell our tales

and laugh at the twists and turns

while we marvel at these gifts

we’ve wrest despite

the monsters’ traps

and treacherous seas.

We sing to each other

words wild as the wind

and just as quickly

images like trees, earthy and green,

while the beach lies pregnant

frothed by the ocean’s hiss.

We don’t notice the time

‘til the sun

silhouettes our bodies

in the morning’s golden rays

as we shake hands

and go our separate ways.

Note: this is a poem which will be appearing in "Eating The Peach"--my new book of poems and drawings to be published early this Fall.