Releasing evening’s watercourse,
mangroves, quick to tangle and warm –
your hairbrush surprises me with its fibers
now a magnetism locked in a box for thirty
years like a mangal dissipating swells –
I quit looking for surges and tsunamis
under the overpass where prop roots
study the memory of exhilarating fingers
tracing the shoreline’s mind – I have lived
an elsewhere existence just to watch
you, citrine salve in incandescent surf,
swim freely from authigenic convictions
again and again beyond my reach
where snare and sea reminisce.
Elizabeth S. Gunn serves as the Dean of the School of Arts and Sciences at Nevada State College. She writes poetry and fiction in Henderson, Nevada, where she lives with her wife and their three lively pups in the endless Mojave Desert.
