Maybe the Sea

June 8, 2013 § 2 Comments

Well, I may have to live close enough to the sea
(though I wouldn’t go to it much, or touch it)
that its scent would barely flavor the air.

I may need to live just at the point
where the sky opens up like two great velvet curtains
before the deafening roar of a phosphorescent mob—
a clamouring crowd so loud, it beats away everything but silence.

There should be so much water it’s no longer water, or even wet,
and its turmoil runs so awfully deep that it draws its own self down,
down into stillness.

It should be empty and full, vast and invisible:
unplantable, unbuildable, untamable for so long
that before I could ever plumb down to her last precious secret,
I may find myself awake, not quite at peace,
but close enough.
Self portrait for poem, "Maybe the Sea"

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