5.5 haiku sonnet

from two yards over
the lawnmower still buzzes
after the sunset

we watch bats swooping
their silent acrobatics
a tango at dusk

the cicadas sing
over our conversation
drowning out the words

I watch your tongue flick
gathering the amber drops
along the smooth rim

we sip tequila slowly
warmed more by heated glances

As if you were Midas

just before night’s end
water laps along the shore
caressing the sand

your breath on my neck
rolling warmly forward, back
across pale, bare skin

rough fingertips trace
unmapped pathways across the
freckles of my face

my lips slip along
the cusp of sinewed shoulder,
hollow of your neck

two dragonflies dawn-gilded
conjoined along water’s edge

on facades and frostiness

I walk the trails tonight
solitarily skirting the shadows
smeared across the last desperate
remnants of winter clinging

along the edges of the woods.
The traces of trees and setting sun
carve dusky blue, cobalt grey
hollows into smooth snowbanks

crunching heartily under each step.
Every crisp footfall echoes
back a sharp reminder
of the coldness outside

and the long walk back
to the coldness within.

Held hostage

I hold you up
even as my face slips
beneath the salt-strewn spray
treading in place
because you refuse to swim

moving on alone
is not an option
but how can I save you
once the waves
have taken me away