Monday, July 04, 2011

Smooth




the sea rolling us
rushes over us - over and over
wild shards of magma - in the frictional waves

rolling us from the sea floor
over and over out of the tides
in the frictional waves onto the shores

from the sea floor scattered about
out of the tides in all shapes and sizes
onto the shores now smooth as glass

scattered about pieces of us
in all shapes and sizes reflecting light
now smooth as glass to be picked up

pieces of us pieces of us
reflecting light reflecting light
to be picked up to be tossed away


2 comments:

Mark Kerstetter said...

It's beach season - I like the tumbling back and forth, the repetition/reflection of your poem. We pick up the smooth things and wonder, sometimes, what they once were. We pick up and share shells, casually drop them back down. That's us in the vastness - ephemera.

K. Kayin W. said...

I have a few of these. I wss doing it straight at first but ended up playing with the forms to add more textures to them. I hope that people will also feel free to play with how they would like to read this poem.

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