summer, evening

image

under the dawn-dusk sky
clumps of water are shot
spray high
foam white
descending in a liquid rush
crashing, splashing
into whisking green waves
grey blue black
flashing sharply on the crest
reminiscent of an ocean.

ghostly
bulbs of light
waver below
like subs rising, worlds sinking
flashing mutely in the lively dark
almost holy

while the young sit, stand
untouched
drinking once-sacred cups
raised in honour
to an ancient god
silently slipping between living bodies
blessing few
anointing all.

© 2015 threegoowords

07/04

fireworks black and white stellaresque42dottumblrdotcom

July Fourth and they were all in New Jersey at a grand cook-out in Inez’ parent’s back yard. Inez had invited everyone, and almost all had come: Chloë and someone new by the name of Will (Nicolas was hi-sto-ry, oh, you wouldn’t believe), Clarissa with her Greg, who had recently been promoted to ‘the love of her life’ (though she still wasn’t sure if he wasn’t seeing someone else ‘on the sly’), Olivieri with Rachel (calm and content as always) and Matisen alone. He’d decided Inez had to have some hot cousin he could chat up and talk into God-knew-what, Lana didn’t even want to know.

By the look of it he was succeeding very well with a certain Isabella, it was depressing really. Never mind all that, there was her, Lana with Timothy, Timothy who had his arm around her whenever he could. There were tables and chairs set up in small groups, children racing around, the Santa Cruz talking and laughing animatedly, merengue cascading out of the enormous stereo on the veranda, one whole side of the garden an enormous smorgasbord of delicious food. The sky was wonderfully blue, the parade worth seeing, and everyone happy to have a day off to celebrate.

Lana was already on her third margarita, her fingers still sticky from the fantastic barbecue, not that she was complaining, Inez’ family really knew their food. She was anyway laughing at Inez, who couldn’t stop grumbling about another suitor her family had set her up with, this time a certain Ramón. He seemed quite nice, not bad-looking either, but Inez ‘so didn’t care’, though she remained polite. ice cream 5 crème graclée saveursvegetales dot comThey all meandered from table to table, listened in to wild stories about the Santa Cruz’ life in New Jersey, laughing with everyone, and generally had a really good time. Every now and then Timothy would pull Lana close and kiss her lips, always gently with a hint of more, making Inez’ mother wink at Lana and then give her daughter a telling look that made Inez sigh and roll her eyes.

July Fourth and it turned out to be one of the few days in a long while where Lana was just happy to be where she was, with her friends and Timothy, her surrogate family. July Fourth and for a few hours Lana was just happy to be alive.

© 2015 threegoodwords

soon

image

I know I’ve been
rather absent
fairly quiet
separate
and possibly apart

for some time now.

I have not forgotten you
all you lovely people
here at threegoodwords.

A lot has been happening
manuscripts are being read
publishing is a real
possibility
and as you can imagine
I am thrilled.

What, you’re probably asking.
Who, Where, How, and Why?
So many questions…

The answer’s soon to come.

I just wanted to thank you
for reading and liking
and commenting on
what I put to paper.

I just wanted to thank you
for very simply being there.

Your support is wonderful
and I can’t say
how much it means to me.

I am truly touched.

And soon, soon
I will be back to
writing
posting
and writing some more
regularly.

Have the best of Sundays
j.d.

sight to site

image

twine of the velvet
fixed in virtual light
sup from the nectar given
flutter from sight to site

two of the four given
stone of a legend, living
in hope of ancient
times yet to come

twice in a morn
the sun, risen
high beyond the cusp
of a world unwitnessed
unbroken: written.

© 2015 threegoodwords

white stairs

ice cream 3 laurenconrad dot com

quiet steps
across sunny stone
scaling the depth of summer

white stairs
solemnly clear
bright
in their commemoration
of a cruel time

now used daily
as a resting place
by those visiting from abroad.

*

after sunset
voices rise
to glasses raised

laughter rippling
across fountains
sparkling in fanning light

lives lived
among strangers
together
on ancient steps
once built by a great power

then everpresent
now lying low
among the weathered stone

remembered
but no longer known.

© 2015 threegoodwords

 

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