Zephyr

A zephyr whispers through cinnamon trees

And a whiff of honeysuckle floats to me

Through the wet breeze.

I can see the fisherman’s wharf

Just below this precipice.

The prismatic sky brings forth

An invocation

And uncontrolled uncertain thoughts

Overwhelm me.

In the moment

I want to sift my feelings.

Entomb the dormant.

                Like a waif I await

                An acrid smile on my face

                As I sink in the stygian depths

                Of a halcyon sea.