3 Poems, by Rc deWinter

being feet swathed inseaweed    sitting at the edge ofthe sea   Ishiver in the cold Aprilwind   gazing at stars they mock me a singer withouta song   adancer withno partner a soldierwithout a weapon but the seasings for me   the wavesconstruct afortress roundmy feet   and in this safe placeI have no need of a weapon the candle…