A dog in a sweater chasing the Gulf the silence in water part of a soft uncannily wind hands at your side Pale moon floating a pink sky your ghost on six legs stops and stares disappears in the sand The surf fits your arms something to love or a prolonged absence held for whatever past joy there might be The dog stops tail erect barking then leaping on the liquid edge over and over you spreading the light
JW Burns lives in Florida. Poetry and prose in several publications including I 70 Review, Ginosko Literary Journal and Caveat Lector.