ocean voyage
O C E A N . V O Y A G E
A wild and distant shore
Michael Nyman, The Piano, New Zealand
The forest is dark and forbidding today
A fog covers the moss floor and the bushes sag wearily
Cobwebs threaded with marbles of autumn rain
Spiders run for cover
I hide inside the house, covered in my throw blanket
I’m working on a new song
Categorized sheet music by memory
Movie themes, jazz standards, wedding songs
Classical pieces propped up on the stand
The lethargy of the moors beckons me
Mist envelops everything
My bedroom next. You’re so deliciously huggable, so tropically blue
My tanned arms reach towards a clear sky
It’s such a long way to the piano barefoot
My fingers are ice cold
They stumble stiffly across scales, trip over accidentals
It’s much too chilly to try
There is a paper boat on the piano
Origami from three years ago
A day we made bold paper cranes
Perfumed flowers, multicoloured balloons
A week we planned to go on vacation
A month to book our flight
A year that didn’t happen
Your hair the colour of sun-kissed sand
Laughing as you grin and pull the covers
They say that you loved me
I wished you could tell me; wishing, washing uncertainty away
Cradle this small pearl in the palm of my hand
Creased with creases and lines like an ocean floor
Basin of my livelihood; curled like a conch shell
Your cool, soothing mouth once whispered into this hand
And breathed warmth onto it
Blossoming like a volcanic flower
White canvas on a wooden ship, full sail
Ahoy captain!
All that’s left of us are our bodies; breathing
Dreaming, lingering, remembering
Quietly, a tender touch of the lips on the pillow
The image of your face, flushed, warm
Like a freshly turned comforter
Taken out from the hot dryer in the laundry room
Seagulls glide overhead and kiss the bottoms of rainbows
Moving slips of baby blues and navy coloured flannel shirts
Butterfly touches, sailor talk
And it’s raining outside this morning; hard and resilient
Like marbles hitting the cement on the driveway
The curtains are pulled closed, embroidered with lace
Single lampshade the only light in the formal living room
I lounge on the couch, book in hand, facing the piano
It’s nothing like the vacation you imagined
It’s not the landscape I planned
There are goosebumps on my arms
When you bend your head to kiss my stomach
And I melt into the sand