4-Sided Poem

Black Ink
---
He's not moving at all
he's so skinny and sleek
I don't even see him blink
just a stroke of black ink
on this trail I am walking along
i'm thinking of writing you a song

A dream comes to me
I touch your hand again
I see your smile sweet friend
I watch your lips open up 
to sing of ghosts and love
but then you just wiggle away
salamander streaks into golden brush
he doesn't have legs but it's enough
But you, 
waving away goodbye is not enough
----------

Black Hat with Flowers
---
Why do you wear a black hat with flowers?
Whose accessory to remember the hours?
is it really to hide from the cold
or to recall the old
someone dear who's not here?
what kind of words does a hat speak to us?
I am a cover
A top
A peak or a curse
I can dress you up
or spin you around
although I'm up on top
I can still fall down
i'm a clown
A witch
A worker
A tourist

A cyclist
A racer
A climber
A muralist

A hat you can remember from a time and a place,
a pretty little memory sitting on a perfect face

-----
Life in the City
---
Tell me about life in the city
is it as fun as it is pretty?
do you make music in the studio every night?
what inspires you to read, dance, or write?
do you listen to my words that I write for you?
do you enjoy games and rhymes as much as I do?
when do you think we can stop pretending?
Will this stranger story have a happy ending?
-----

Ascension from Shell Beach
---
as I walk up through the trees
I see squirrels and birds at my feet
The trail is covered by bending boughs
colored lights filter like stained glass windows
Ambrosia's vine strangles evil king
Dionysus lives on and sings
I feel the perfect bliss of heat from the summer day
An ocean swim that took my breath away
A sailboat with a yellow sail
I watch from the raft as it tacks and flails
The waves- motion moving from many directions
Intricate triangle shapes reflected
just as you compose shapes too
these waves are pictures 
but yours will move right through
Sound waves who's beauty cannot be seen
but felt inside of me in concert, screen or dream

Part of a Creative Writing Project: Letters to Geographer 2015-2016

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