Where river suspects salt, land shakes the sea
Revealed expanses lie
Out of the lifeborn mud, worms rise
Ribbon weed aligns, rigid heron stalks
Woman cries, crews die
Remember the dragonflies in the winter
After the last bright body, shimmering wing dies
Under the dark water, waiting, rise
Man gathering shells, sharp stab in the chest
Like a bugle-call, clock struck
Is that the hour?
Turmoil of voices
When shall we hear, where shall we hear,
Rain slants, seeds rebel, green grows
The earth of shells and friends is covered in flowers
Under the pale moon, what cries?
Dust in marble halls, dust of marble halls
Ground jewels, rose roots strike
Lustre withers, slow-burning amethyst escapes
A lost note cries in the dark and I cannot find it
Out of the deathborn mud, worms rise
Boat bumps against the jetty with the waves.
Copyright Simon Banks 2013
I’m just going to leave this one for you to make of it what you will.