Saturday, September 8, 2012


photo: sharon auberle

by Sharon Auberle

Tell me it’s coincidence
my watch stopped here
in this timeless place

a place where deer speak
a silent language
and you understand

where a trail of lady slippers
leads through the woods
to a stranger, who speaks

of emerald dragonflies
and your hands shimmer
with light and you dance

with yourself, in a dream
a place where great banks of lilacs
scent the air and a bowl of beans

tastes fine as caviar
where night rain comes
softly in, bearing sleep

in her arms, tell me
this is coincidence
and I will send you on your way.

You do not belong here.

~ first published in Lilipoh