Parchment and papyrus
the black tarp billows like sails
outside of my apartment balcony
powerful breezes undulate
breathing like waves
curled rolled unfurled massive cloth
the backdrop romances the wind.
Roofers hung it as protective cover
to contain the roof top spillage.
For several days I left my curtains
opened to my sliding glass door
all night long night air swirled
as Van Gogh imagined
midnight entered my room
While on my couch watching YouTube
I felt the rhythm of the wind
and I was back in time again
soaring on a ship, a glorious clipper with a mast
a gigantic colossal wooden island
floating sailing whirling tossing windborn.
I was a child sailor orphan then.
They made us climb to the crows nest’s
dangerous top because we were fearless
and the most expendable.
We called out warning signs ahead
of obstacles or enemies
storms through lightning
thunder clap awakening
escaping death’s startling invitation.
I lost my only ally there.
He fell into the sea.
I dived in after him futilely
but he drowned miserably
and I wanted to die with him.
He was my best friend and family
although we weren’t blood related.
We were related as orphans.
A psychic told me this vision
years ago in San Francisco
as clear as memory.
I think I met him again there
a reincarnated version.
He knew the vision’s story
without being told.
We had a form of telepathy.
In this life he was a natural actor
with the bluest aquamarine eyes.
He was a lost soul mate
I know this.
He shouted, “I love you so much!”
but he chose to forget me.
Coincidentally his best friend
in this lifetime
died by suicide.
So he went on prozac
and lost his affection for me.
He become robotic,