Poet’s Corner

shipwrecked on a sea of green
waiting
for currents of words

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2 thoughts on “Poet’s Corner

  1. the smell of salt

    the captaincy of
    dictionaries will
    bow to rudders and
    wheel house burns
    on the sea

    beneath words
    are journeys
    are destinations
    whether we lean
    into them
    or we sit
    and we ponder
    and we yearn
    in still leaps
    with compasses
    into every map of them

    there is one
    language we know
    without having
    to hear it spoken
    looking at it from our
    stardust iron in

    as every sound
    and scent
    is assigned
    a memory
    a thought
    that arrives
    like the tides do
    or a storm does
    when the reach
    of the horizon
    and the carve
    finger blades
    of time know
    to start writing poems
    in the wet sand
    between the rocks
    again

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