SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

Profile - Archive�- RSS
Guestbook - Email - Diaryland

Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Monday, Feb. 12, 2007 @ 8:58 am
Sombrio Beach



On the beach, again, under stolen sun-dreanched skies. Beside the fire, and your eyes glowing deep in the salal. The slippery logs, the mossy limbs, my pack heavy against my hips and the cormorants with their wings hanging open towards the sunrise. In the darkness I wash the dishes in the sand, basin of water trapped in a round sandstone pool, I'm panning for gold, swirling the water and sand around and around, Orion overhead, and Gemeni, Taurus, Sirius, and Cassiopeia tucked between the trees. I'm turning the star dial as the night ages and Cancer comes up in the East; a lethargic star shoots through Hydra. The waves roll through the night and I sleep in the womb, listening to my mother's blood whoosh through her heart. On the beach again, this time with you beside me.




















Roots | Shoots