Sea visits
Nov. 5th, 2005 10:57 amYou're always straining, pouring out,
a sail deflating when the wind fails.
Nothing bigger in the world
than small questions in the back seat,
hands digging sand
make charms from vertebrae of a carp.
Always sailing away;
The painting never gets it right.
You come a beggar to adult beaches
pockets billowing bankrupt.
Soul always replenishing
swollen with endless horizon.
~~~~~~~~~~
From some lines written on September 1.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-05 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 02:27 pm (UTC)