ELEGY

I, looking into

me, where the bleached

and pitted bone is gentled

by a constant, restless sea;

where the dunes rise

in my throat and

dark horizons fall before

the dipping sun;

where the mystery

of light is sure,

and the moon will rise

and shine on memory,

and tell me

what I alone can know

and whisper

of infinity: remembering

before birth

and after dying.

© 2010 Charlotte Merrill Jensen