The following poem is from Frances Ruiz's Poetry Collection before you wake up.

 

walking across the parking lot

white shells in black
sand, clear water tinted

purple by sunlight,
green leaves in your

hair beneath the
auborn sky, why can’t

your eyes be gold like
the moon in my

dreams, and cold like
an opal on my skin,

why can’t the dirt
of the earth rise

up to the air and melt
in the sea, black pebbles

float down to our feet
in slow motion, painting

blue lines in the air, my
fingers are chapped

and red by the wind,
my keys are cold on

their tips, i stand too long
at the door of the car to

watch you tap your foot,
but instead you smile and

tap the glass.

 

Copyright © 2008 Frances Ruiz. All Rights Reserved.
Materials may not be reproduced without express permission from the author.