Perhaps
you came here
looking for words
frustrationstuck
or notice
how
the tail of
a gnomon’s
shadow
fades into
Subito sera
a ghost
of the comet of day,
here is my
most specific
hypothesis:
words
and language
are pharmakons

you are an hourglass
swimming across the horizon
your arms straight and elegant
tracing counterclockwise
unwinding the face of a clock
the waves
at once
compelled
and
retracted
by the gravity
of the line
that demarcates
the ocean
from the sky
a blanket of white foam
pulls back
to reveal
a penumbra
Wet
with the memory
of the last wave’s
reach
slowly soaked
up by the sand
What poet
does not
hope for a reader
who drinks
as thirstily
each word
as 100-year old
Japanese paper
absorbs
calligraphic
strokes

the beach
thirsts
for the salt
of the ocean

My instinct is to call
this time
I had been trained
to call it
rhythm

But
the ocean
as it kisses
the beach
and the laps you
do between
buoys
are evidence
of an invisible
fact
like how
the fluttering of
leaves
gives voice to
the song
of the wind
secondary
phenomena
that stands for
Truth

We have been
gnomons
under a
shadowless
Sun
for a
year

Above us
commercial
jets
crisscrossskies
like a ball of
of yarn

Were it
not
for the fact
that everything
had been cancelled
we might not have
started
and
we, too
would be
threading
that
ball of yarn
on
disparate
itineraries of
constant
touring

sun
skies
un
crossed
un
wind
time
un
stuck
shadow
less
glorious
summer
ocean  
delightful
measures
breathing
world
my shadow
these
days
idle
pleasures
majesty
true
and
just

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