Lay my body
out across the strait.

As I roll over in restless sleep,
let me hug the breakers to my collapsing chest.
Swallow the swells,
the sound of the sea
crashing throughout the emptiness
The wind
whining through me
a briny howl
drawn out of my creaking hull.

Lay me spread eagle
across the water
dissolve me
into the harsh glitter of fractured sunlight.
Reduce me
to flotsam and jetsam on the waves
what will,
in time,
be washed back
to this beach
where I sit now
and long
to
howl.

Mountains
recede into the dimness of evening
As though God
took this image of sky and horizon
and lowered the contrast
until we were left
with the impression of the Olympics
but none of their usual detail.
In this way
night
overtakes the entire landscape;
stealing along the line of the ocean,
blurring the edges of boats
buildings
and shore,
until the world is inhabited
solely by Soft Things,
and our eyes
are filled with sleep as we watch them.

Minds
drifting
towards thoughts of cloudy blankets
and warm beds.
This,
is how our city puts us to sleep,
as the watch lights,
appear twinkling
in the dusky sea.

Shockwave on water,
in every direction
there is soft
slow
yet tumultuous motion.

All of this rippling,
is this what the skipped stone sees
before it sinks into the cool water?
Looking back
towards the hand that sent it soaring
does it see
all the places it kissed the surface,
all of the stillness it disturbed?

How large is the hand of God?
To have scattered us all
across the surface of this world
to have hurled us all
out across the expense of time
skittering
towards that far off horizon
until we lose momentum,
and faltering
for a single moment too long
we plunge through the glassy surface
and descend
into whatever it is
that awaits us on the other side,
entering this life
dazed and confused
wondering
about all those other places
we touched
and may have broken through.