I do not know more than the Sea tells me,
told me long ago, or I overheard Her
telling distant roar upon the sands,
waves of meaning in the cradle of whose
sounding and resounding power I
slept.
Manchild, She sang
--or was it a storm uplifting the night
into a moving wall in which
I was carried as if a mothering nest had
been made in dread?
the wave of a life darker than my
life before me sped, and I,
larger than I was, grown dark as
...
Published on November 14, 2017 03:11