I find you in my mind,
where salt is crusted in the sandy, fettered wing:
the beatings of my thought uncurl
the foetal chance,
where blight had formed the pearl.
The beach begins to be:
I walk the shore alone
and watch the waters touch
the end of day;
the shells I walk upon were home
for small and unskilled creatures
whose defenceless flesh
created littoral fantasies:
the sand is luminous with sight.
Horizons are intense and blue,
the eyes of love
that call the gull to flight.
© 2010 Charlotte Merrill Jensen
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