Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Seattle afternoon

Confessions of sea shells
Whispered, never taking a breath.
Bridal registry of the sea
Unblinking like the day
Pregnant as the peace you carry.
What would you like to hear
As it tells of sand and cold blood?

What can be bourn on the wings
Of a seagull as it flies inland?
The air that holds it is
An unknown history of salt,
A rumor of the story of love,

It is a poem that keeps
The land from being lonely.