I bow my head to the sea (poem)

I come to the sea at night
The sun  purple remnants in the west
I  smell the sand, golden, warm from the day
I taste the salt, brine on my tongue

wisps on the air

A thinly restrained chaos
to which civilization bends its knee
as the waves rushing passed each other
In foamy crests which lay down and then pull back

as it has done

for an eternity

I stand there at that brink
at the cool knife’s edge where water and sand meet
Arms splayed outward, an arrogant kite
Ready to be taken

I can hear the roar,  the power of wind and surf

wondering at its leagues and depths as forward it rolls

waking to the sheer power of its majesty

a place where giant beasts call home

in it’s cold, dark fathoms,

where ships lay strewn on silty sandy floors, forgotten,

it lays down and then pulls backward

the cool sand at my feet collapses

as if she means

to take me away as if I never was

I falter, my arms lower
Clasping hands come together

sheepish

of my insolence, arrogance, and infinitesimal might

my face colours
I bow my head to mother, I bow my head to the sea

Beyond the Witching Hour

Beyond the witching hour,
thoughts lengthen tonight,
as they join the wind

The trees sway with springs first buds
darkness is heavy here
this side of the earth

I wonder about the spirits
pressing hard against the night
fingers grasping at the veil

their shouts but a whisper
just beyond the hearing

I listen
as my lover sleeps on

F.E. Feeley Jr
This is an older poem
3-22-2015
edited by C. Atmar

Michigan Winters (A poem)

I remember the winters, and the snow late at night
with the world set ablaze from the moon’s silver light
I remember the stillness, the quiet, akin to death
flying heavenward, always upward, the heat from my breath

I remember how time always seemed to me,
suspended like ice cycles on the bows of fir trees
teardrops on maples, void of their leaves
limbs frozen over, as if laid barren by thieves.

I remember walking, those long wintery roads
yet unmarked by tire treads, or other folks I’d known
My feet would crunch and kick and I’d slide
I’d laugh as I stumbled risking my pride.

Oh, I didn’t’ care. There was no one but me
alive in the world, at least as far as I could see
the only tracks left behind me were mine,
no one watching, no one telling, no reason to lie

So when the stumble came, I’d let it come I’d roll in the snow.
I’d laugh, I’d curse,
it’s hard under there, you know.
There was no pride and no mission
No place I had to be. It was just the winter,
empty streets, my boyhood, and me.

Alone, not alone
5/12/2015