Sand Cliffs

November 29, 2006 at 1:18 pm (Blue Kansas)

 This is the last of Ralph David Emerson’s Blue Kansas series. 

                                                                             -Lynn Alexander 

I move out slowly
Across great fields of drifted sand
To reach the pavilion
Where you calmly sit
In your white dress and white hat
Looking out over the shimmering lake
Which stretches to the horizon
I am not sure if I will reach the edge
Of the cliff before sunset
As the sands draw my feet down
Deeper and deeper
And the thin grass
Becomes even thinner
In the late afternoon wind.
Even your image has become faint
Silhouetted against the sun and the sky
Perhaps you are just a mirage
A translucent fragment of glass
Sparkling briefly at the boundary
Of earth and water
Yet as I draw closer
Almost close enough to see the light
At the edges
I know you are real
As real as the voices
That drift across the great sandbanks of dreams
Stretching out endlessly in front of me
As real as the white gulls
Flying overhead
Like angelic birds of prey
Your coy, terrible, and swift
Emissaries

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