Inversion
Water flew,
it was above my head
waving or flapping
or did it row?
The boat
was a situation
adrift inside a cockleshell.
I recall the moon vividly
for it was not there.
Dreams fold inwards,
invert and leach
behind shuttered lids.
Searchlight-sight turns to floodlight,
the peripheral is everywhere.
Awareness rises to the top
rocking back and forth
heart-waves - tolling
like a sea tossed buoy,
Sometimes, mid-deep in flight
you find a paddle,
sometimes you don't.
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