Fear

brush of cold wind 
sapping my skin, dry of wine
into wrinkled flesh, sunken cheeks 

of black crow in dwindling sunset,  
amber eyes glint - sharpened blade - 
on driftwood, an oil lamp waiting 

for striking match to burn 
every autumn leaf falling,  
until nothing but grey sky and ash linger

on boat empty of voices - 
your charcoal pelt, slippery and wet 
of deadly things 

pressing down my chest,
i cry out your name - 
on dry throat and swallowed tide - 
above me you are

all the verses I want to write
but your fearless lips are drowning 
me, 
slowly - 
bitter black sea     

   

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics - Poeticaphobia - hosted by Stuart McPherson ~ 

I have a fear of falling and drowning in the open sea.

Shared with Poets United:  Poetry Pantry
picture credit:  here