Creative Writing
I often think of the sea,
not so much of vastness
but of depth, and what I
can't see, all the life just
beneath the surface – sort
of like, a newborn, 70 years
from now; sunlight blotting
out the sky, until rescued by
night...each of us a legacy
of many –
we find one another again, in
the shallow eddies – where waters
meet in manageable pools,
our circles pushing back against
a far greater current –
Where tide
tips the shore, we are nestles
of shelly kisses...sharing what
we can recall of both slippery
and pointed journeys –
in a real sense
all our forms and words
are a bit cliché
creative writing
the antithetical
of language
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