and paused the moon her slanted light
cornered eye wells the hollowed cheek
of seabirds dream your silence
for faded color concealed the pause
abated breathe did bite the billowed chest
and rested petal shall quiver blue
no land no moored crashing waters
know more the inner gears and spring
what autumnal rustling shifts you
the muted voices penetrate not the veil
fathom the mottled dream that holds the gaze
even layered gardens drift the yearning sand
of dead whiteness wreathed the shore
poor seaweed hung and lashed
her heart from the burrowed land
into such tangled reverie cannot awaken
the captured dreamer from its hold
nor can ascension of occulted Venus stir
to come back majestic on that third day
fully whole upon the tower and awaiting
a new ship crests the dawning light
for another era to approach warmed in hope
when quieted men shall find their peace
within the rosy bosoms of salvation and grace
and how pausing dust motes the hall
of sometime in September
how your mother’s laughter sounded
fathers face weighing the early light
waiting your arrival.
Renga Round
by Maysa-Maria Kristina Gadelha Peterson
and brother, Marco Francis Gadelha Ashcroft
again we walk the boarded path
as it was that day
searching for simplicity 