Seaweed

All along the bent and angling coast
seaweed strands in sunken coves
abandon their beached forms
from wave to wave

I always chase after them 
their strewn bobbing heads
roll as dead bodies
from wave to wave

What seaweed does not hide
short stories of unknown depths?
submarine worlds where time itself
folds into layered shelves

Under every rubbery leaf
striped then strung to tether in running bands
veins on my father's arm
long long ago

An unseen drift marks the sea's closing line
to leeward straits where I now stand
feet in the sodden growth soil
hand against the shaded bulb

A  frothing whirlpool gathers all the seaweed
roped and braided in dulsing patterns
soft crests falling soundless into outstretched arms
then slap against the burying stone

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Sunlite Wanter

Date: 11/12/2017 5:39:00 PM

You were standing right there, weren't you, Ward? Your imagery and rhythm are perfect with the back and forth of the waves.

Ward Trotter
Date: 12/20/2017 11:39:00 AM

A wonderfully intuitive observation, and entirely accurate. Thank you.