Where blue songs swell across the shallows
And salt deep in the blood crisp,
So the mind warms itself alone
With wave motion, meridians of least resistance.
He waits for the return of unfaltering speech,
Patience–the symptoms by now well-known-
Without which all is obscene with blushing green.
But here there is an intimation of grace-groomed;
Sea birds herald, southern thunder-clouds drift,
Sea-scours coral sand, soft comings-on of change.
A heavy-breasted woman walks by the sea,
White feet, swaying hips, and re-birthed proof
The margins of the world are clear, simple
Measured by reflected light across the surface.
