dimanche 6 mars 2011

At the Beach

Sunset Beach, Oregon

It's odd to live
fifteen minutes from the ocean
yet never see it

Blind alleys these diseases
the doors slam shut
just thinking about it

I am not crazy
I'm nauseous
but you manage to persuade

The seagull is on her belly
taking in the warm sand
she ain't movin'

Then suddenly with flapping wings
stretching three times her body
she lifts into a gentle gale

It's all blue skies from here
with streaks of white cumulus
and a setting sun of white hot lava

Burns our retinas
warms our purple lids and chapped lips
a straight hot line cutting into the horizon

And the sound sound sound
surrounding the auditory nerves
rumbling tremolo, pure verve

I remember it all
from the dawn of time
where ovum meets sperm

The sickness, the rhum
the drummer and his drum
the romantic nonsense

Here at seaside
there's a glimpse of life
riding on these tides

I remember it all
running into the icy floes
as all the sickness left me

Perhaps you remember too
five years ago, Depot Bay
on our summer vacation

Me jumping and laughing
as the waves crested
at my still slim ankles

The sea was a healing
a miracle we couldn't bottle
with the slipping sands of time

Back here at the beach
the gulls have disappeared
while the sun sinks into a cloudbank

I take a deep breath
to remember it
when the last sun is setting

When the ears go deaf
when the last bird has fled
from the dizzying din of ocean

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