Claire Nicolas White


When I  wake up and dreams unravel
the sun projects on the white curtains
the grimace of bare trees.
The frost inscribes its silver lace
on the windows' seams.

I wear my friends like broken trunks.
The wind has torn their braches,
a wild tangle in winter time.
Who'll tidy up my landscape?

I wait for spring when they will wear
green smiles to hide their  wounds.

Driving to the Hamptons
pale land unfolds,
a carpet of gray green,
space reaching to land's end.

Oh the unemployed mansions,
resting shingled retreats
from the competing flux
of floating fortunes.

Water  rises on the outskirts of the island.
Boats unanchored float into the living room.
Wind lashes at power poles.  We're cutting loose.

Kerosene lamps licking darkness throw shadows.
Fire hisses its blind secrets in my woodstove.
The roof rests on long nights of sleeping dangers.

Dates dwindle on empty calendars.
Nowhere to go, time teaches me

back to top



send comments to info@poetrybay.com

first electronic copyright 2000 poetrybay. 
all rights revert to author



Poetrybay seeks fine poetry, reviews, commentary and essays without restriction in form or content, and reserves first electronic copyright to all work published. All rights to published work revert to the author following publication. All Email submissions should be in body of email text.

To submit poems write to:

PO Box 114 
Northport NY 11768
or email us at 

send comments to info@poetrybay.com

first electronic copyright 2004 poetrybay. 
all rights revert to authors

website comments to dpb@islandguide.com