The ilk of the stars
they flicker. Look to the shore,
the ebony moon holds
the yellow
unmisted tulips of glass
into the veil of Apollo’s illusion—
arbitrary dreams
go to the red shore; it is Autumn,
and I remember you. Eyes go to
the distant mountains in cocktails
of wind, and the luminescence
to the teeth on light and dark
cutises of apples. To the summer
eventide, a letter to the ocean
in memory, in the lithology of bone,
and in nights of cool. You are not
alone.

If you’d like to support an elder or senior facing severe isolation and loneliness during COVID-19, you can check out Letters of Love–Love For Our Elders here. There are different ways you can send letters to them, either handwritten or through video.

Categories: Prose

Tags: COVID-19, Free-Verse, Letter, Literature, Love, Non-Fiction, Poetry, Prose-Poetry, Writing