Large boulders piled high
stretch out into the bay
and form a breakwater
that shields the beach
from high waves
and heavy swells rolling in
from southerly gales.
I have stood there
at the end when the sea
was hurling its rage
and all fury exploded
like bomb bursts of watery
shrapnel into the air.
I have seen such power
subside and tamed
to compliant licks
around the feet of rocks.
More than forty years ago
on a deep breath
I snorkeled down its ledges
into the rock strewn and weedy
world that lay at its base,
places where stingrays slept
and where fish glided
effortlessly along crevices
and over sponge
covered outcrops.
I cradled a fragile seahorse
in my trembling hands.
I no longer have
the confidence to rock hop
its length to the end
but stand where it butts
the land, commanding memory
to whip up a wind
and set wave upon wave
to awaken a soul
from its sleep
and make it feel
the sting of a southerly gale,
wet, cold and wonderful,
once again.
An elephant swam with a stork
He snorkeled along with his trunk
The stork stopped it up with a cork
Which put pachyderm in a funk.
Then, pachyderm laughed till he cried
As he soaked the poor stork with his jets
And that was the last cork she tried
‘Cuz now the stork never forgets
We traveled,
Without a single word.
Left abroad, as all things that pass.
We were the only thing that furnished the space around us.
Without a single word.
We partook in sights that denounced us as things.
We soared as the clouds that journey through the sky.
We were the only things kept afloat.
An oasis in the desert of pillows where we rested our head.
Pleasant. Calm.
As we snorkeled into a deep sleep.
We partook in sights that denounced us as objects.
Faraway into the tourism which quinched our thirst.
As we never left our seat in the voyage of each other's eyes.
Without a single word.
We traveled.
The new tomatoes were
Little bumps
On the
Vine
Showing off to the
Universe
Before sundown
On the fourth of
July
Waiting for the
Celebration
To begin
Duckweed choked
The pond
Set back in the
Woods
Baby
Painted Turtles
Full of hope
Sunning on an exposed
Log
Heads snorkeled
Towards the
Diaphanous
Crescent moon
Vinelike tree limbs
Trellised the
Surface
Scum
Stretching
Glassine algae
Like a smoky
Haze
Clinging
To the
Underworld
Gripping
My
Stare
Never
Letting
Go
07/04/14
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