No title

earlier today a friend sent me a message
asked if I was still holding it all together
called me the glue

tonight you sent me the same
asking that I forget this business of glue
rather I should paint a picture of words

you and I walking the beach with those logs
that lay about too random to be anything but

my dress with its handkerchief hem crisscrossing the sand,
grains coming alive in the sunset, or perhaps sunrise,
bouncing colors only the Sound could handle with any grace

you standing with the colors dancing about the sand
waiting for us to walk into our vows,
your eyes back lit as if the moon
had parked where only brown and gold existed

just let go you asked, bring it to life
in the very palm of your hand
dancing along the life line as if each branch
were a celebration