The pier

spills
into the water’s

silver screen
like the white

yell
of lightning

or one of those

quick glances
of a girl

passing by
that linger

in the heart.
&

at the end

of the pier
I can hear

memories dancing

under
the surface

of the water’s
silver screen.
&

at the end

of the pier

my eyes
do cartwheels

on the surface

of the universe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

______________

Photo: Doreen Dee