Rock Hard French Kiss

Rock Hard French Kiss

There it is, Alex’s song,
deep and passionate,
jazzy mellow, like coffee brewing,
like hidden birds in the dark
heralding another day,
soon here, soon full upon us;
like a child’s laughter, soft and muffled
clinging to dawn’s breath—
as your music guides our focus
to the drama of spires
at the ocean’s edge;
sea stacks, solitary shards of continent
pulled apart from land, frayed, jagged
naked rock sculptures, granite gods
standing in the waves, bathed in eerie earliness,
and then the notes force the eye hard to the horizon
where tears of thankfulness can flow,
where beauty will be reborn, yet again,
where the hard smile cracks sandstone,
with one’s spirit pressing hard inside
the chest, heart near to bursting
with unsolicited emotions,
just as the searing golden cusp of morning
rises up steaming and wet
from the sea
and kisses you scalding yellow-orange
full on the mouth.

Glenn Buttkus February 2009