Seashell

by Kevin M. Sheetz

the water is too cold

waiting for a train

I’m falling in love again

every time

I see the moon

when I look at you

it must be my eyes

too often they roll

out of my head

and perch upon the platform

gazing at the tracks

it is snowing

now rain

then sun

and finally wind

has blown the other passengers

away

into some other

yonder

perhaps an island

littered with deer

darting between the palm trees

and springs

renegade time

what have you done

where have you placed

my heart

and how did you remove it

without my

noticing

I should pay closer attention

the train came and went

as I stood

endlessly dissipating

I dropped my hands

and they stole away

with my tongue

to the vast wastes

beyond my knowing

the inhospitable desert

of my knowing

where my self continually sprouts

from the sand

like so many seahorses

singing different songs

that all sound the same

they wriggle like chandeliers

they blow bubbles

but it is only my brain

carved out of stone

netherworlds aplenty

worn through with attempts

at remembrance

a fountain deep in the forest

a castle surrendered

to the dust

I could go on and on

but it has been said

that everything must come

to an end

eventually

my raindrops

have trepidations

the perpetual trembling

the light

wearing thin

pages torn

from the book of my soul

but nobody reads

any more

it’s a shame

really

the tapirs

some things never change

do they

larcenous

honey drip