Life reals
Empty with afternoon,
Sipping a cocktail of nakedness
Cool with memories
From the bottom of the glass,
Warm with voices
Thin and discreet
From the rustle of shadows
Across the sunset yard,
As clouds mix with metaphor
Upon the sea
So far below
That even the tide
Is slow and small,
Ingrained against grey cliffs
That hold the waves
In thimblesfull of sand.
