Posted Monday, October 12th, 2009
Lie beached on the far sky
Sucks a smooth rock
In a sea weeded groyne.
An infant cupped to a shaggy neck.
Sundried, dull and saltybrown;
Licked, sucked and damp,
An amber ember.
Warm as day,
Round as a marble,
Smooth as handskin
Salty as chips.
My Hair is stiff and swinging
Is a bucket
Of live, Clicking shells-
A sloshbox of treasures
Eclipsing what I left on the blanket
Archived in piles
The sky is a wet chalk pit with an orange burn
Sand bars rear up, hump
Like whale backs,
Waters rise and
from dry heights
Protozoan black squiggle dancing on the moon.
Another struggling, swallowed iteration-
With a shadow-
And walk on I.
Pacing the shade creeping from dune depth
To gold crest, speck to speck
And holding out empty hands to time.
The raving sunstunned wander done,
I stretch shedding moments like scales.
All left behind
Like the slowly filling footprints that followed me here.
To the edge of day.
Comments [post a comment]
Posted by Donna Levy [ email@example.com
] on Tuesday, October 13th, 2009 at 4:26 PM
Excellent! It is a joy to read good poetry. Love, Donna