It
is only sand upon a beach.
It
is only tiny pieces of glass
shattered and pulverized.
It
is only jagged edges upon the shore
anticipating bare feet
and
the inevitable trail of blood.
Two
by two we pushed off
into
the angry waves thrusting
and
shoving against us.
The
shore line transformed
into
horizon, we paddled
into
deeper water, enveloped
by
rain, crystals of frozen fog.
For
a moment the noise abated,
noise
of undetermined origin,
metamorphosing
into silence,
the sudden clarity of silence,
allowing
an understanding
of the loudness of the rain.
We
can no longer see the shore
anticipating bare feet
and
the inevitable trail of blood.
Photograph by Petr Kratochvil via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
1 comment:
The shore line transformed
into horizon
wonderful poem
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