Monday, August 29, 2016

Discrete Aegean Sequence

More than enough

Here of what a sea 
Bird’s kept 

Folded be 

Its wings. 

                inland urchin 

Ringed by mountains 
Strange that 

I should have been thus 
So drawn to the sea 

I don’t remember 
Whatever became of me. 


Salt sprays 

In the recesses 
The mind 

Tastes of brine. 


In a poem 
I once wrote 

Conches nest 

And thinking 
The sea, the sea 

Engulfed me. 

                tail end of evening 

Of sails in the sunset 
Small white cries 

Of gulls sailing over 
The edge of the world 



I shall pave 
The wide blue 

Sea with slates 
Of marble 

And keep on 

Till I find you— 
Wait and see. 

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