Two Storms

//two storms

Wind shrills through screens,
pines moan,
oaks creak,
wet, wrinkled, sage blooms blue.

A new love holds her enchanted
in her soft white bed,
laughs as they
toast toes by a pomegranite-
colored, flickering fire,
toast each other langurously
with small swallows
of wildflower wine in
glittering glasses
while they breathe
perfume - drenched eucalyptus,
sage-leaf-flavored roasting meat,
and hear
“La Mer” the one by Debussy,
on his CD,
later hold each
other drowsily.
Their storm sings.

Clam-shell colored clouds
shroud stinging sand,
and the cold, writhing, gray sea
as her former love,
passing by her window, sees the two of them
touching in bed,
painfully looks,
contemplates drowning
in the sea.

TWO STORMS BY LIZ SOUTHWOOD FEB. 14, 1997