You sleep well, dreaming of sea gulls
and lost love. The tundra you’d walk.
Or desert, the world, rock, scrub,
rock, scrub. Dawn, the bright sun.
And the woman who stumbles to the cliff-edge
where last no one saw her husband
taken by the night sea, rod and tackle
all taken by the sea somewhere, somewhere.
[continue there...]
and lost love. The tundra you’d walk.
Or desert, the world, rock, scrub,
rock, scrub. Dawn, the bright sun.
And the woman who stumbles to the cliff-edge
where last no one saw her husband
taken by the night sea, rod and tackle
all taken by the sea somewhere, somewhere.
[continue there...]
 |
2 comments:
"This is where the soul won't exist." How intense! How gripping! So many negations. So much loss.
Doug,
You should visit Rustum's work on the web (start with this) and/or get This Carting Life.
Cheers
Post a Comment