The Picnic by the Ocean
The Octopus offers me one of his three hearts,
briar and holly for friendship the second and third
saved for times of longing, times of loss.
A strange romance, I admit—
Friends would never approve or believe,
yet he was untouched by human hands.
How can we say this is not a source of wonder—
“Who will sing my song, if not you?” he asked.
“Who will dream of me, as I lay under the stillness of water?”
Even an Octopus can be eloquent, and then again,
as we know, enormous need can become power.
What am I supposed to do now?
I stand by the water,
my woolen dress unraveling in the waves.
From What the Psychic Said by Grace Cavalieri, published by Goss183. Copyright © 2020 by Grace Cavalieri.