Saturday, June 02, 2012

Salt Water


Salt Water

And then

this memory of a Paul Simon
song playing on a Bose
radio while
the cool winds blew in from
the creek reminded
us that saltwater isn’t a dream

instead something so magnificent
and potent and without
a nation or an identity, but
instead this great bouquet
of everything splendid in the skin
it seeps through, the grass and your flesh
and the moon hanging so low

it isn’t clear whether it’s above
the water or underneath it.
This is how I imagine life should be
a collection of detached memories inspired
by the colorful and artful moments
of the world at large, trying to think
of your friends being good
and doing good

while the night meanders and the mornings
smile, the curve of the earth twirling
around an axis of fate and bone,
muscle and sinew
thunder and roaring ocean breaks,
rustling leaves deep in the forests
of our lingering memories

the common dense of it all.

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