I trawled out a net of words to catch you;
but you slipped from it and my kisses,
through raking sieves of upheld fingers -
the ship long-lost in silting sand
till only ribs are left to strain the sea.
Mussels cling and barnacles adhere
till not an inch of sea-steeped timber shows.
on the long-shore biome of a low-tide-line
Crabs dig in the bases, lug-worms bubble
all around; and sanderlings, little flea flocks,
run stilted slaloms, jabbing there and there.
Yet here's no fear, neither despair nor tear
among slow, crisping foam, birds piping lonely glee:
the sea has all the salt she needs from me.
YOU ARE READING
Winter Trails
PoetryWinter Trails is an album of my poems, journeying through late fall when the wire of the trees begins to dominate, till the end of January. After promoting it and it soaring to three quarter million reads, Wattpad unceremoniously dumped it. Here it...
