local_library Sunset After Sunset

by S.D. Parsons

Published in Issue No. 1 ~ October, 1995

A lucid moon bows its head, supplication to the trigger
Quick winds running their race with gulping breaths,
Stirring sand like sugar into your malted chocolate eyes.
Nestled handlebars awaiting the excited grip of a curious child,
Your lips force a promissory grin.

No one wins.

Dry tears punctuate the polished, wasted spit of a clam
Cut through your heel, dark blood sponged up by sand.
You sing and think of drowning, of those who fed the sea,
Then skip seashells across the back of bruised hand,
flotsam fingers of wood, coral, shiny plastic potato chip bags.

Everything discarded eventually finds the sea.

Even the odd tranquility of sand pressed between your toes.

account_box More About

S.D. Parsons spends the majority of his time traveling the world in search of the perfect cappuccino. A Zen Buddhist at heart, he feels the downfall of all Western Civilization can be traced directly to man's inability to accept his neighbor's God. He says: "We stand on the cusp of great understanding, but our ignorance blinds us, keeps us from seeing the miracles unfolding right before our eyes."