December 9

comments 5
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I woke with a want
for the ocean

gray and desolate,
with winter surf

veiled
under soft,

steady rain.
A desert

won’t be
the same,

too still and open–
the ocean

closes in,
relentlessly.

But the stars,
you say,

they’ll be amazing–
Yes, if only

I wanted clarity,
but the act

of waking
was enough.

Now I want
to be muffled,

I want to be
hidden,

to watch
the squall lines

build
and then

swallow up
the shore.

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5 Comments

  1. want for the ocean

    but the stars…nice contrast…

    i can relate to the wanting of the wintery ocean…to be
    swallowed wholly hidden…

    enjoyed.

    cheers and ooo la la~

    Like

  2. How to describe my reaction to your poem: it washes against me softly and then it recedes carrying the weight of some of my clarity. You’ve voiced something that I’ve felt. Clarity has its burdens, and sometimes not being seen is liberating. The paradox of the introvert, I’d say.

    Glad I read this. Thank you.

    Like

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