light tinkers with the beach,
honing dents, preening
chiaroscuros
while kelp trusses the wrackline,
outweaving the verve
of Sanskrit.
crab bones and periwinkles
clatter in a moaning log.
the nude, fissured wood
seesawed across Cobscook Bay,
awkward in exile,
ruddered by a lost storm.
not even a narwhal
knows why the husk murmurs
like an engorged bassoon,
or why waves
topple to the music,
absently proffering
their deaths.
Chris Crittenden, Maine, USA
3 comments:
Chris Crittenden lives near a lighthouse in a remote coastal area. There are no traffic or street lights nearby. He believes poetry is explifies the depth and honesty to which humans can attain. Some recent acceptances are from Poems Niederngasse, Poetic Diversity, DMQ Review and Thick With Conviction. He thanks you for reading his poems!
I like the water colors and delicate sense of movement and space in this poem.
This is utterly exotic! Almost decadent and yet so natural!
Just gorgeous!
Smiles and Light
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