She tries to breathe, feels every molecule
catch in her throat, cling to the walls
of her lungs, as droplets of sea spray
and tears dapple her face.
The gales will not pry her grip
from the lighthouse railing, not until
the last of her strength fades and
the music carried by the wind dies.
He was found in the lower ballroom,
the last bubbles of his breath
adhered to the brass of his horn
like fish eggs to a swaying plant.
dVerse offers up the amazing photography of Leovi
as poetic inspiration.