at the tree's summit
branches
without
leaves or blooms
a patch of sunlight
on the patterned bedspread
while the tree's
middle section
the window
screen's grid
fills
with flowers
the counterpane
illuminated
although
along the lower branches
shadows
root takes night
the climb to wherethe dune crests
pine cones
cluster
the camera's flash
the entire ocean
silvering
while in the sea
salmon swim
with rock fish
images of black dogs
in wet sand
headlights down the beach
bonfires
the sun
an orb
a mirage
returning to the house
in twilight
it begins to rain
the pebbles on the path,
gray and black,
darken
wet, black, fewer gray, black,
more black
when we reach the door
all the stones have turned black
©
's first book If Nothing Else
Bowes’s poem “Folded sky” also appears in this issue.
