Saturday, February 21, 2015


Nobody knows where I am,
Although you walk all over me.
I'm a green secret, found
And found, footnote in the ocean.

No, I'm not an island.
I'm not your archipelago.
I'm my accidental,
My broken hasp of transition.

"Just like zat, ach, one day
You are very healt'y, zen,
Next one, too sick to walk."
Elderly Europeans chat

In the lingua franca
Of my salt and sun oasis.
I can't remember when
I wasn't too sick on your terms,

But here I am, hiding
In my brilliant light, day and night.
You could, if you could care,
Count the days and years that lead me

From where you start counting
To when I began to name me,
But you don't have to. Do
The math. I am a mystery

Filled with overgrown lives,
Slumbrous and ready for taming.
Little wavelets of breath
Sustain dispirited spirits

Who long to betray me.
Shhh. Your world is out there, waiting
To proclaim me. I'm gone.
I'm the last green flash of your sun.

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