Poetry - Lingual Strata

Hauling the board down the craggy cliff he stops benches at the half-way look-out, and waits for her descent – steep steps of roots and stones and raw wood, slippery from misty rain, a challenge to her untried “goat” legs. Brief dialogue sitting legs sprawled breathe heavy, pause, dig deep, dredge for words of mutual comprehension – comprendo? si…si See sea? Look out from the widow’s peak cliffs double beached with la cueva between now

Now and then I try to put down some words and I’m left with silence, wordlessness. Other times, in metamorphic release, I break through to externalize and crystallize. We all have our moments (some more often than others) when the hard shell cracks and breaks off cleanly and effortlessly. Sometimes we shed baroque emotional obesity to shoot thin finely-honed arrows, or in suicidal anguish we flash crystalline jewels through winter trees,