She stood as dark as ever, waiting for me to follow.
I chose her canopy for covering
and faded into her like clouds.
She sleepwalks in my skin,
questioning the sound of my moods.
We’ve been here before.
Our souls crossed, as she tucks the moon in my hair.
We’ve lain on the subtle hills of her slanted cliffs
and mountain tops, trimmed in heavy kohl,
sprinkling dust over pitched blue moons and pillows,
while craving the intractable lips of her rivers.
My eyes quickly fold, then flow through her mouth,
kissing the banks of her salty lips,
as she stands stronger and darker than ever,
glistening like diamonds, peeking out of shadows.
She eagerly plucks the soul of wild children,
leaving their flesh to become
lifeless sentences of old intellect.
She wears truth like sandals.
I’m left; bald, with the heartbeat of a wind,
I can’t convince any longer.
She drags me into the string of songs that a sandman carries.
I go into her, eagerly. Night.
© 2017 Diane Wilbon Parks
Diane Wilbon Parks is the author and publisher of two poetry collections, Rearview Thoughts; and most recently, The Wisdom of Blue Apples. Her poems have appeared in American Poet’s Society’s Anthology, Expressions, Great Poems of the Western World; Echoes: Voices from Prince George’s County Poets. Diane has shared and inspired high school and college students with the visual imagery and use of metaphors and personifications in her poetry. She is a Senior IT Program Manager, a PMP, an United States Air Force Veteran and UMUC Graduate. She’s a member of University of Maryland’s Honor Society: Phi Kappa Phi, and University of Maryland, University College’s Honor Society: Alpha Sigma Lambda. Diane resides in Maryland with her husband, Eric and two adult children, Sean and Shelby, and dog, Cooper.