Sally Bliumis-Dunn – Ⅴ

Vastness 

 

 

 

 

Not loneliness pressing

 

the shores of your skin,

 

or the sad skreeking

 

of something like gulls.

 

 

 

It is different inside you.

 

Lighter, more like sky.

 

 

 

Now that you’re

 

with him, you come

 

to the woods. No, more often

 

you  go to the ocean to find it

 

 

 

beneath your gliding hull –

 

 

 

clear globes of fish eggs, silver flash

 

of mackerel, even the occasional

 

horseshoe crab washed up

 

on the shore.

 

 

 

And you, always

 

watching, gratefully listening –

 

 

 

tongues of ropes like muted bells

 

clanging on the masts,

 

the breath of the bodiless wind,

 

 

 

and all walls down, here

 

on the generous blue you give

 

to each other.