old snow

the old snow settles in,
becomes crotchety
stubborn in its insistence
on retaining territories

but the new is coming –
eight inches forecast
to whisper its cloak
over the dogged old

for now, I step gently –
cautious of sheen
and crunch, only at intervals
glancing up at the stars

© Sarah Whiteley

My newest chapbook Wandering Wonderful is now available for pre-order from Finishing Line Press.

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no stars have come for us…

no stars have come for us

no birds align in coded message

there is only us and all the ways
I say without saying

that I am both broken
and blooming, and uncertain

how to welcome hope and despair
on such unequal footing

© Sarah Whiteley

what has been lost

smoke
love remaining half-asked,
with an exile’s hunger,
what have you lost?
smoke never stops moving,
alters nothing, and
leaves irretrievably

when exactly does time
distill us down to fire?
down to accumulated passion?
at what point have we traded
the marked directions
of known constellations
for the possible light
of far, unseen stars?

I carry with me every touch,
each quiet sigh released
beside you, and have lost
precisely nothing

© Sarah Whiteley

insomnia

moth-425088_640

craving stars, I crept
down the crouching hallway,
disturbing only moths
seeking their own small
allowance of light

trees sleep, lowering
their limbs by fractions
as the day subsides,
leaving only the incremental
gestures of slumber

I have had to explain often
the peculiar edicts of insomnia,
and how it does no good
to seek why in the high
corners of the night

how it is better then
to slip into ready shoes,
and out into the expectant dark
where pivot the city’s
token of stars

© Sarah Whiteley

night swimming in Tulum

turtles are the only traffic here –
moving slowly landward with
the June-shadowed moon under palely
trailing feet and a torrent of stars

all day, the sea bloomed –
bursting brilliant in
white florets against the sand

but at night, the upsurge eased
and sun-brushed curves containing
all the day’s heat submerged
into cooler divulgences

© Sarah Whiteley

I have a very unofficial sort of bucket list. It changes all the time, but there are a few things that have remained constant and one of them was skinny dipping in the Caribbean. And Tulum last June was the perfect place to fulfill that particular wish – amazing experience! I’m heading back in October and am trying very hard to convince the beautiful person I call boyfriend to come along with me.

In other news, I think I’ve decided to combine Ebbtide and Tied to Sky into a single blog. Things may become a bit messy here while I play around and decide how I want to revamp the site in order to better accommodate both poetry and photography/art. My apologies in advance for the chaos.

Be well!

taking stock

what matters is this –

that there are cranes strolling in the shallows –
a silhouetted grace against the sky’s dying bloom

that the waters of the sound cradle the brilliance
that pinkens the hills and wash the dusklight onto shore

that chilled feet are soaked in sandy shoes
and blue jeans are wet up to the knees

that cold hands find each other in the dark
and that beauty remains long after the day has gone

© Sarah Whiteley

A rough couple of days punctuated by the absolute perfection of a stroll along the Puget Sound at dusk on Saturday evening. I am so very lucky to have special friends who know just how to help me put things in perspective.