She was a sea dancer…

She was a sea dancer…

(April is poetry month. New poetry number twenty-seven.)

She was a painter, part-time poet and she was a sea dancer.

She could paint the sea, she could paint the forest and

she would paint the faces of people near on the Monterey pier.

She sought laughter and kind people.

I was a drunk, I was the bar-poet.

The sea seeker and I loved the silence.

She wanted to save her world, she wanted to save me.

She wanted to make me smile and laugh.

She would find me in the Irish Tavern and she would take my hands

and we would find the River Inn at Big Sur. She told.

Dear poet, dear Johnnie. Please allow me to paint your face at Pfeiffer beach.

I want my insane poet near the dangerous sea together forever.

We would drink the sweet wine in early afternoon and

we would go to Pfeiffer beach. We would climb into the dangerous rocks and

allow the waved to spray us with the ocean water.

The coldness of the sea would awake our spirits.

She told me. I know you seek death. I do see heavy sadness in your eyes.

You have volunteered for every conflict for four years.

You believe, you do not need love. Johnnie, we need love.

The whiskey won’t heal you. You must learn to love again.

She would go to the open sea and

dance for the goddess of the sea.

She was so beautiful, she was so wonderful.

I told the goddess of the sea.

Please give me one more day with dear Beatrice.

My kindest friend, I do adore.

Dancing Coyote