Wind blows and the sea must follow
The direction of weather
To the earth’s four ends.
In the cold channels of the north
Or the warmer surges of storm
Or the roaring gyres at the ocean’s heart,
Where do islands go?
Stone rises from the water
Upslope, upstream,
Against the coiled rivers’ flow
To mouth and gone.
From 2014. I tinkered with this for three months after discovering it as I cleared out the archives. In the end I let it be.
The direction of weather
To the earth’s four ends.
In the cold channels of the north
Or the warmer surges of storm
Or the roaring gyres at the ocean’s heart,
Where do islands go?
Stone rises from the water
Upslope, upstream,
Against the coiled rivers’ flow
To mouth and gone.
© BH, 2014
From 2014. I tinkered with this for three months after discovering it as I cleared out the archives. In the end I let it be.
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