(Thanks to R.A.D. Stainforth ... with a small contribution from Amy the cat ...)
In the space between the crash
and
pull of this wave,
I give you a landlocked heart,
chest
deep, tumbled
incandescent
as sea glass.
Turn
it over,
examine
it
in
the palm of your hand.
See
how important it is,
how
far it traveled.
Press
it
to
your lips,
feel
the soft-spoken stone
whisper
bottle green
in
your listening mouth.
Let
it dissolve whole,
release
the saved-up thirst,
the
delicate, jellied passion.
All
you hear is the sea.
Nothing
else matters.
tk/ March 2013
 |
| Meal Beach, Burra Isles, Shetland by Robin Gosnall |
