When the light of day sits
pensive and dull
you begin to mourn the flowers
that yesterday sang
brilliant hues of red
and violet
and the spray of ocean waters
burned salt into your eyes
and you cried
not because you mourned the day
but because the sky was seamless blue
and the day held you suspended
in warm light
high and giddy from the smell
of the sun
you melt into the air
and fly away with the seagulls.
Art and Poetry © Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Leave a Reply