Philosophy of Ocean and Sky

By: Colette

My mind is a haze of bruised sunsets,
the tulip bulb of the sun wilts beneath the froth
of a blackberry ocean. Sand brushes
my feet in wakes, rising over my shell toes
like the breathing foamed waves.

I sit upon the shallow shoreline, study
the shadowed horizon where water and sky
melt upon each other. The coral dripping sun
dips into a swelling ocean, falls in crystalline
air bubbles among coiled sea grass and metal fish.

The ocean bursts against the boiling air,
mists in droplets of dry ice. Gold-tinted gulls
flap their fin-like wings, skimming the chipped
water. Flying fish spread feathery scales,
the mirrors of their flesh reflects sunbeams.

I know that at night ghost crabs will scuttle across
the powdery sand, leaving tracks for dune ants
and Orion will point his arrow for eternity at their
hard shells. Glowing, the crescent moon will droop
a hook upon the tides and reel in the waters.

When my age has passed and ashen silvers leak
across my scalp, the only white upon the
calming seas is a sliver of moon or a flash
of sunlight.