Departure I

Hurried feet swirl up liquid sand. Sea frontiers recline. Looking out to empty waters she sees light fall, disappear. Torn up and lost, she runs her race enchantedly everywhere. Then, towards vertical cliffs - thin arms on silver crests. And white gulls gliding.

Departure II

Up towards those eastern nights beneath a blanket of stars and stripes an automobile with guttural accents gulps down the gradients. Stationary on the cliff it hiccups and pauses. The silence of those lights, moments like dust on roads to horizons. Then it falls upon bones, showers stones… and crumbles.

(An earlier version was published in The Thumb Print Magazine)