Wednesday, February 11, 2009

the fishergirl

thru berries and curled leaves on foamy waves
a pinewood boat pushes
imbuing the saltsea with evergreen

lying numb blue in the cold seabed i
reached up into a whish of warm
knew i then she was a-sail above
the undulations of the cold sea a fraction
as beautiful as a silk strap 
snapped into her skin i icily dared

poor beautiful swimming fish 
closing saltburn eyes i know
the animals are losing
and wants are winning
and cants are sickly sweetly spinning

the oh so gorgeous captain cannot
(honeysuckled braids)
her lures' shadows discern
yet they sharply stripe the sea
a-writhe like heat 

from her darling boat (young pinewood!)
one invisible line especially finds me
half-buried in cold sea-gravel
it flashing in quivers of dull sealight
the gold hook, stinging like unwanted fate
grabs the corner of my mouth
inspiring a bloodcloud to coldly bloom





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