Monday, December 08, 2008

Leeward



I remembered you. How we laid there afterward. How your breathing smoothed as if silky sleep tucked over you. Even as my fingers rippled the color of your hair.

I remembered sunset clouds. Plaid woven and warm. Your eyes painting the dark with things I couldn't see.

Your skin glowed like a mountain in last light.

A mountain I climbed. And claimed.

Only to drift down, the climber claimed.

Into the long caress of leeward night.

12 comments:

Catvibe said...

Jason, very lovely and sentimental, leaving me with a melancholy sigh.

Aine said...

*blush* You do have a way with words, love....

I hope the winds change direction, though. Constantly pushing against the wind gets tiring.
;)

Sarah Hina said...

Now that's a beautiful photo. So many textures, and layers. :)

I like the natural separation, after the joining together. Because he was still touching her with his eyes and thoughts and intention.

Only to drift down, the climber claimed. What a great line on the heels of the others. It makes me want to drift, too, if only to climb once more.

Vesper said...

Beautiful, Jason, and so romantic...
So many exquisite images, within and without...

Charles Gramlich said...

The wind came up from the west, carrying a rain that misted softly across the mountains of memory.

Aggie said...

Very pretty - ripples in hair and on mountains too - and I love the photo ... perfectly matched!

paisley said...

for me it is the longing fora long lost love... he is no longer with us,, so every memory comes with a tear where a smile should often be....

jason evans said...

Catvibe, hopefully there's more sweet in that bittersweet.

Aine, thanks! :) Wind is good for sailing. The trick is to harness it.

Sarah, so much magic to that calm. The soothing of soft blues to balance against the blazing reds.

Vesper, glad you enjoyed nestling into the moment. :)

Charles, beautiful. :) Yes, it was like that.

Aggie, it was a dramatic winter evening. I had to pull off the road and try to capture a bit of it.

Paisley, I sometimes wonder what tear like that mean. Are they are gift, or a curse?

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

Your thoughts are pure poetry! There is something so Byron-esque here - a blend of romanticism and erotic fascination that is absorbing, to say the least.

Geraldine said...

Oh how lovely Jason, what a romantic you are! This was just so beautiful and touching to read. Aine, you are one lucky woman, I'll say it again. Great photo too.

Hugs, G

jason evans said...

Kaye, I'm humbled. Seriously. Thank you!!

Geraldine, and you are making me blush again. :) Thank you for valuing that part of me.

angel said...

oh thats beautiful...