Brine

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Blue and white extend far beyond
the open sky, melting the sea,
its turquoise expanse crashing
into white waves. Bubbles of foam in a mad
rushing caress caught between water and shore.

Brine mixed with the smell of fish and seaweed
evaporates into the air.
Earth and sea emit a primal sound
that rocks me to and fro
soothing my tousled emotions.

Beyond the coastline, wild palms
frayed by the careening wind,
their fronds point arrow-like
toward the cobalt sky.

Snowbirds in groups stand huddled
and distant. They observe my approach
in a diffident stance, and shy away
as soon as I am too close.

Pelicans, one body in flight,
swerve gracefully above the horizon,
each part of a greater whole.
Their motion, a symphony in action,
touches me deep within.
A beauty so perfect
it sips of the divine
and startles my uneven breaths, caught
between whim, and insight.

Barefoot on the sand, I spread my feet
wide to the touch of broken seashells;
somewhere in between pleasure and pain,
I imagine a massage of organs churned
in the motion, and my foot opens, unfurls
distends, breathes.

The sun glows tangerine before sinking
below the horizon, pulling with it
my discomfort and any critical sense left.
As the night descends with
its loose cloak of velvet blackness,
humor enlivens my own shores:
this country of impatient physicality
now approaching acceptance.

I stand in my flesh,
more compassionate,
distilled by the pickle of vodka.

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Swimming in a fish bowl

Swimming in a fish bowl
the poem whirling
caught on the rim of my tongue
set loose it lisps
as I sing, my heart is Celtic
a harp, a knot
a sail ballooning in the wind
the Isolde of my mind
on the sandy shore
scanning the pebbles for emeralds
green levigated glass
how many stories lie ensconced in a beach
the centuries piled
in interwoven intricacies
thicker than lace spun by nimble fingers
small pink hands
as I clap the sound echoes back
into the mind
its chambers deep
door after door opens
releasing the witness
to myself
in a branch bare from leaves
the October wind howls calling my name
in an arcane tongue
wooing my hair
smelling my body
the skin that shines of the years of my life
in this moment mine to keep
a cycle repeating within
a tidal wave led by the moon
in the answerless abyss that is creation
neverending, never stopping
only change to be embraced
for a longing
for a weltschmertz moment
in a glimpse of hope
a daisy–petals widespread
the toes of my feet heading earthward
as a downward facing dog to the sun
saluting the essence that is
my true self immortal
unique, ever changing
divine
one