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Paul Celano
Poems
Jun 2012
Land Of Beryl
Looking down at empty pale feet
Pure crystal water
Kissing the gaunt quivering toes
Like tiny nipping lips
An intoxicating dewy tickle
Replenishes the ulcerated legs
Thin iced glass brushes the face
Coating it in a soft chilled frost
Salty needles pinch the eyes
Making vision blurry yet refreshed
To blink would be a miss
A loss of excessive sight
An immense beauty gone
A crawling land of beryl
A saturated endless terrene
An ocean
I went on a trip to Florida for business. I didn't get to go in the ocean, but I got to look at it. This is what my mind was imagining.
Written by
Paul Celano
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