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.