Sunday, May 25, 2014

A Day at the Beach in August

I had reached into the pockets of a yogi,
ayurvedic medicine

A wave
tagging to another,
shifts into something big,
better than separate.

The swell,
vertebrate curling,
thrusts surfers from its insides
spilling microcosms, plankton;
head and neck and tongue.

the waves thrash
the waves explode
the waves breathe and breed;
coagulations of mermaid blood
turn to white tips
and reign the sea.

We all fall on land.
sediment and sand,
our legs bound by seaweed
our limbs reaching
for the peach pitted sun.

Foam is rabid from a wave's mouth.
It is hungry to see,
and blind to swim.
We climb into the barrel
and drink salt.
We starve ourselves
for the quiet pumping of silence
within the sea's ever-growling tummy.

A wave crashes alone,
relinquishing easily
itself to the shore.


e. chayes