Issue 16
Wing
Penny Gerking
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I Dreamed I Was Flying
over flat, black roofs,
square chimney pots,
green shadowed slopes,
over orchards, upright
and enigmatic
in moon's light.
once, I was nose to
scarred, wooden post,
where every grape bulged
darkly luscious.
above again, and tossed
by windy currents --
(I will drink only
red wine, wash my hair
in lemon water) --
until I came to earth
against him who sent me forth.
I see nothing, hear only the
susurration of his breath,
echoing the sea, his private dream,
his unshared outpost.
~Penny Gerking
Penny Gerking's poetry has appeared in print journals and in various ezines. Email.
© 2004 by Penny Gerking. All Rights Reserved.
© Copyright 2004 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.