Samish Island
A bit of land
I stand on--
And the rushing sea around,
Where cold shivers up two 3 foot towers,
Awaking my soul to tide with the morning;
There after I breathe this seething onflow.
It charts and changes my way--I plan,
Caresses my standing stability--I walk
And, soothing my conscious attention,--I know.
In my dreamtime it segregates the sands
Of my embered shapeless Eden:
Even my mind blinks twice
In its quiet rivered reverie
All the while this flash-driven universal show
Squzes and drain-spins the lanes of my heart
Painting each interstitial corner of my wetland
With the slow artistic taste of time.
--D'fils