longing borne high above the ocean’s roar

Left to Right: Gaby Stein CC0, MusicOfShadows CC BY 3.0, Denis Doukhan CC0

Longing borne high above the ocean’s roar
A smooth still-quiet pocketed sea stone
Uncovered from a Danish cold salt shore
Rides cupped embracing my cool palm alone.
Arid cabin air cannot fade sea scent,

Just as the sun cannot raze the sky’s blue,
Even now when white moon beams are absent
Absorbed by vivid clouds, distant shores and you.
Near bedded flowers fold-planted down snug

Deep-warmed by waters raised right-rich as silk
And root brine from below the globe’s red hug
Vents splash bright mash we catch and drink with milk.
I bring this old world salt to your shore,
Spice, both, and salve mixed coarse with fertile ore.

For background on the poems I’ve published on Medium see “about these poems”.