TSM 127

this morning the ocean
soft as calf snout
 
slow-eyed waves
of a seaweed manger
 
you began to sing
newborn to the water
 
each note translucent
curled and umbilical
 
yet I fear your voice
will wake
 
and beckon
another such hurricane
 
as those just now
as if all joy were oxygen
 
and bloodline
to catastrophe
 
I let go your hand
and walk up the shore
 
because my heart seeks
the lost ground
 
must learn again the shape
of salted firmament
 


The Sunday Muse

25 thoughts on “TSM 127

    1. Thanks. But now I think I should have worked it back to calf-snout again at the end. Not sure what that would have been like, but a missed opportunity, LOL!

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