Sawgrass roots in sand.
It moves like
the waves on
the sea

ii
Blue/grey and silver crystals
adorn the waves
They move like the dancers
in the harem
of Neptune.

iii
Winking at us
as we sit on the verge
of swaying grass
at high tide. The chill of autumn.

iv
The voice of blowing sand
singing low and of sylph sirens.

The waves clap.


SoulSurvivor
aka Write of Passage
aka Invisible inc

Catherine Ĵarvis