Petrel

May 23 2012


Dismal weather

has settled in.

The urge to cocoon 
to bed you,

head buried, covers tucked

incessant clock

unplugged.

We spoon into each other.

The warmth of bodies, shared

reassuring breath.

The firmness, against. 
Like a mooring, anchorage, port

impregnable home, in a storm

I explore you.
Your sandy shores

hypnotic surf,

your tide’s

irresistible pull.

I am a seafaring bird

of long endurance journeys,

who scarcely sets down on earth.

A rare sighting, so near to shore,

wings, tucked trimly 
head alert,

undisturbed

by cold, or wetness.

I am at rest.
Let your gentle waves
rock me weightless.