in the ocean where I took her,
she was early beyond the breakers:
from the probing waves that tempt,
foaming in the pleasing salt,
she was fractious in the spray.
somehow trapped in sea glass tides,
I could only hold the strand-
abrade the grains of fingered beach
to ease her drowning image
from my cloudy sail of hours.
oh sea! oh beach of swelling seasons!
she clawed an eight piece scuttle
in a season strewn with minor wrecks:
far into sunlight the waterless ocean
carelessly lapped its bony diet.
Monday, March 23, 2009
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I really think it is up to the reader to take what they will from the words written.I think everyone reads, sees, hears, thinks differently.
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I did not say a lot then did I? Ha!
ReplyDeleteI do like how you write with a sexual undertone that is not so graphic, that the reader can not image such themselves.Also that your words can be read in a totally different way. That's a gift, I am thinking.
Thank you dear SarahA
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