Thursday, November 15, 2007


Toes at water’s waning
what is
the weight of a shoreline of sand?
i stand amid the seaweed encrusted melon rind
and search out a rock with a hole
a holed rock
in the bead shop of the downtown
pieces of coral pile in a small
glass bowl
copper fish displayed as at a market

plunge to where they are found
that which hides the ruin of man
and keeps his passion

and i will stand at a distance
holding hand above wave
and feel
and touch the song of a whale
beneath my rib cage
as explosion
that vibrates without colors displayed

weeds hang just below the surface
floating in wreaths, imperfect and organic
barnacles growths dangle at ends
of the fronds and sweep
the silty white covering
to build up the shoreline

the slow progression of pods
of whales
a choir, a chorus
i am dwarfed
something bigger than myself
lost am i

No comments: