BMP7
nzpoetsonline
Pris Campbell
United States of America 
bio:
Pris Campbell began writing poetry in the fall of 1999 and has been published (or has poems pending publication) in Limestone Circle, Blackmail Press, Verse Libre, The Dakota House, Muses Kiss, Peshekee River Poets, MiPo Weekly, The Fae Whirl, Passage Through August, Lotus Blooms, The Dead Mule: An Anthology of Southern Literature, and The International War Veterans Poetry Archives. Previously a Clinical Psychologist and sailor/traveler, illness has forced her to temporarily park her vagabond shoes. She now fancies herself a mermaid with a waterproof pen.  She lives in the greater West Palm Beach, Florida , USA.
BMP7
nzpoetsonline
Songs To A Midnight Sky
 

Daily, you draw the line
between yesterday and today,
 
dare me to cross, 
dare me to get close.
 
I stand in the backyard rain,
shirt soaked, jeans sucking
against hungry thighs, hear
you move around in the den,
stereo rising high 
over a flash of lightning 
to the east .
 
The Lettermen
 
But of course
you would put them on
to taunt me
 
Defiant, I sing along, 
face the night sky,
swallow raindrops, dance,
until I know that yes, 
I can survive anything.
 
Even you.
 
Later, when I shiver out of wet
into dry, you already sleep,
back walled to my side of the bed,
dreaming your own song alone.
 



Ghost Trails
 
He wanders cobblestone trails,
glances into alleys before passing,
certain the enemy still tracks him.
 
'It would have been easier had they killed me,'
he once told me, in a rare lucid moment.
 
I think back to sixteen
when he kissed me
 




Steps
 
two steps forward
three steps back
two steps forward again
sand tracing my efforts
sun scorching my neck
someone sings on the hilltop
too high to see
angels walk beside me,
mary magdalene
annoints my tired feet
 




shadow dancing
 
my feet tread in circles
through a midnight quiet house.
ghosts shadowdance from corners
striating old memories
across body and heart
 
a half-finished dream lingers;
sails white against blue
buoys red and keening
wind salting my hair
unbearable stirrings,
the resurgence of want

 
All poems copyrighted 2002
Pris Campbell
.