cast away
sitting sober on picnic table
made of driftwood
I wonder when in the world
my checkered cloth will arrive
I stare out at the ocean
where an angel without wings
hangs ten while blowing kisses my way
I tell myself she’s just having fun
though I’m sure if she wanted
she could move these continental shelves
much faster to california
last night I built a cathedral out of sand
wherein the choir sang until the rains came
in the morning the beach was new again
and all I could do was pray
to the father and the son
and the ghost of my former self
november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Wow.
Thank you, Sarah…so very much.
You’re welcome.
This moves me so much. It’s very beautiful
Thank you very much, Rose…
Love it … especially these lines:
“I wonder when in the world
my checkered cloth will arrive”
“where an angel without wings
hangs ten while blowing kisses my way”
“last night I built a cathedral out of sand
wherein the choir sang until the rains came”
the last line
Every time I read your work, I have a longing to sit down with you on the floor and just listen to you tell me stories.
thank you very much – it means a great deal to me that you enjoy my poetry so much
wow! lovely ❤
Thank you very much, Soshinie