while we’re away

lights on the bay
flicker twice, then recede
to the crawl space of Summer
winds resonating
the deep chilled wisconsin

And winter will whip
while we’re away

yet waves rarely sleep
opting instead to replenish
the sea and her sands
with the gifting of shells
that we’ve pledged to come back to
and hand pick for each other.

in your thunderstorm

rain on the marquise of Monday
the bewildering blues
birthing the mood set of morning

I twirled twice in your thunderstorm
tossing my polka-dot parasol
planting my feet
on the pipedream of spring

wrapped in the mist and the mantra
robins rejoicing on roof tops.

in the eye of

feather like quills
top off their scraggly
long stems, hugging
the interstate on the
drive up to montauk

i deem them as flowers

poeming their poses
you insist they are weeds
in your need to correct me

i almost believed
they were ugly.

storm cinematography

we tiptoe the morning
post-storm in the opulence
with haloes of happenstance
in the sunlight’s sombrero

you rummage through wildflowers
assuring that calm will eclipse
the catastrophe. Two of us teeter
on tightropes.

and the willows are wilding.

redeeming that spring wish

along with the last
trace of the dandelion
months past the first
blooms of April
rising over
the morningtime skyline
breaking my fugue
of familiar

i’d almost forgotten
what i wished
on the lips
of that flower wisp.


Thank you for reading the poetry
of Emalisa Rose.

When not writing poetry, Emalisa Rose enjoys crafting, dollmaking and macrame art. She volunteers in animal rescue. Living by a beach town provides much of the inspiration for her art.

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