Weather Eye Open
Besides the toss and drag of shells are you shown no proof
as to time lost here?
Same stamp
on every morning. Tattered glass
at rub on sunblind margin. No island roofs or goat-skinned
rocks.
My stars
but you are travel-rank!
Cracked with offering. Your hands bear
what? bow-spray? mast-scrape?
Keel, stinging under silver weight.
what boats unloads your night? Why do the waves
keep you in their shattered cloak? Eyes each upon you
creaking pilot, pilot, pilot?
Copyright © 2005 by Sarah Gridley. From Weather Eye Open. Reprinted with permission of the University of California Press.