The moon jealous of your smile
clouds the stars and shines
that only she may hold my gaze
as a slow wave of regret
turns already faded denim and memories
a more melancholic shade.
I add some more salt to the sea,
shuffle my sinking feet
and lament losses both old and new;
while relentless in its pursuit of the shoreline
the ocean smoothes shells and pebbles into submission
under a perfect poachers moon.
© D. Archer June 2012