Peter Galen Massey

the green sea heaves and / rumbles, falling with a sigh / against the broken rocks

the sea and sky strive / in brilliant contention to / prove which is more blue

dry palms clatter in / the breeze, the bay is black ink / splashed with moon silver

a star-scattered field, / the city fades under a / blood orange sunrise

a sip of latte / is as soft and rich as a / kiss from hungry lips

the rushing night clouds / veil and unveil in silence / the city’s cold stars

what good all these words / dancing with dexterity / when my heart fails you?

winter light falls like / the clarity of reason / on the mumbling man