Emotional Tourism

by Christopher Barnes

The year’s down at my heels
After gaping at you
Sun exonerates wrinkles,
Light tunes-up the eyes
And pink on lips
With a sound of fins and soft-blown feathers.
When my hearing aid fizzes and throbs
I see –
Something like willet wings over Timbuktu.
Catching the breeze,
The flabbergast is whispered
After glancing you.
If the gobies choreograph in shallows
Fronting up to a mirrored shoal,
A blizzard of silver haze.
The spectacle is smothered
After glimpsing you.

Emotional Tourism by Christopher Barnes

© Copyright 2006. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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