A veil blotting out
even sun specks gripped
tight by your hands
going lax—faint glimmers
then blinding warmth
I see and feel day
leaving behind night and
Her as oxidizer. A crushing embrace
heated through. Stoked by red hot
embers igniting an epic blaze, a light
up the sky bonfire eagerly licking up
fuel as greedy flames burn, singeing.
Catalysts, flashpoint then combustion.
When the heat simmers down, a white smoky
haze–aftermath still smoldering. He was
You visit me when the rains come.
Sliding in through the rising torrents
beating my windows, in the water
swirling around my ankles.
You can’t help yourself.
There’s something about crushing
waves that are a part of you which make
her eat sand
another’s eyes red from stinging salt water
one more her heart aching from being crashed into again and again.
Your wake leaves behind brown tide
lines with dirty foam, crushed shells,
sand dollars in pieces.
In October, even in South Florida, there is a hint of fall. The sunlight glints through the trees more golden, breezes kick up, and there’s the promise of a reprieve from the humidity–even if we have to wait until November or December for it. Here’s to celebrating autumn whether you are gazing upon miles of open country with trees the color of crimson or you are strolling about a city center enjoying the crisp weather. Cheers!
she once thought his face
brought her home to sun
speckled shadows that
cooled her and white-hot
blazes that burned within
one glance and her lungs
began drowning in moist
humidity gasping for
the slightest whisp of breeze
coming off the Atlantic
she looked away her home
wasn’t just stifling heat and
scorching sunshine it was
also diving into cerulean and
inhaling freshly cut emeralds
her home welcomed her
his face turned her out
her home comforted her
his face was vacant a
sign that read For Rent
© Pamela Rossow
Her arms gathered sunrises close
to her, luring in welcomed heat
and searing passions, crimson clouds
Her arms swept galaxies close
to her, drawing in crescent moons
and silver shadows, indigo skies
Her arms cajoled him move close
to me, beguiling with silken skin
and trailing fingers, entwined in
© Pamela Rossow