Out On the Jetty

There was that boundary breached by a thin line, a transparent nerve linking two worlds. My fingers could feel the constant chatter conveyed along that tightened length, the winds annoyance and below, the play of water telegraphed upwards in a quivering morse. I sensed the sweep of currents, the movement of weed and the passing drift of waste shorebound from the gulf. Yet something more had gathered to find voice there, something not fitted to any form I could catch and give a name. A deep resonance had taken the line and crossed that tactile bridge and into mind. I was no more than its clumsy glove wired to whatever will it had and chose to reveal.