Wind on the Bay – A poem.

When she dances
it’s nothing special.

Her hair willows,
weeping as she dips,
feet arching.

Praying hands knife
to heaven. The prayer
is unheard.

It’s a dance
she performs everyday—
and no one sees.
No one sees her bending
back, muscles taut,
steel cables holding her.
Without those
she collapses.

Becomes nothing—
shapeless.

Like a goddess she spans,
dipping to the ocean
but not touching.

JKolasch

Wingless – A poem.

There is a twist in the cloud.
Like she twists a finger
through her hair and sighs.

She wants to fly,
but angels don’t have wings.
Or so they say.

Instead, she dangles her feet
from the edge of heaven and imagines
the ocean kissing her ankles.

JKolasch