These half-hidden caverns
along well-worn shores
open up and whisper shut,
teasing me.
This boat of mine glides past
at high tide:
Past walls that wrought themselves
and I, condemned, float.
Cannot float through over these impenetrable waters
my neck cranes to see...
The bare floors
treasures lurk in empty holes,
wonders that are beyond my senses
that flutter suddenly - rarely -
and teasingly relieve
The stale waters.
1 comment:
hey, nice...
Your sea/water images again. It's reminiscent of that Frost poem isn't it? With the Quartz crystal? I love the way you've used the imagery. That line: "...Treasures lurk in empty holes..." It's like...it's lovely! It really hit me when I read the poem Nice... really really nice!
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