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MM.12:135JANET I. BUCK
So What Seaweed
Our snorkeling trip started
as a post card thing,
a climate of invincible dreams.
I'd jet about the turquoise waves,
fit in with fish, not swallow salt.
Catch the sights of promised grandeur,
hold them in a camera's thumb.
Weather tore up easy tickets,
took control of fanciful.
Storms clenched teeth
and smiled at us--
bodies bounced like
baby booties in a ditch.
I had little to say to galaxies
razor rocks had not announced.
Grief's universe had opened up
and we were pebbles in its mouth.
Even the ship we launched from shore
was nothing but piano tongues
for fingers greater than our scores.
So what seaweed, sauerkraut
with papercuts for arteries.
Steeping in quaint cuspidors
with deeper treasures all around.
Poem, © 2000, JANET I. BUCK (all rights reserved; To copy or translate this poem, please contact the poet)
Site design, © 2000, John Horvath Jr., PoetryRepairShop. and www.poetryrepairs.com (All Rights Reserved).
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