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lindyPoems
In Carson you took my hand as we crossed the whitecapped river - cold water cramping toes, we minced our way along algaed rocks like cats tiptoeing on ice But in Tillamook we hunted Dungeoness crab and I roared for you Did you hear? We were hunting our kin - and I wondered if this could be sacrilege to the Cancers, perhaps not But I heard the quiet "Thankyou," given to each one as you lowered them into the *** the reverence in your voice soothed me like the pounding of the Pacific arm along that beach - my own golden shore - I thought I had lost it you see - Hidden in the dunes we consumed the flesh of the ***** and sat down to watch the sun melt into the blue I wanted to say thank you too But the words escaped me like your bandanna flying out from the truck Like those ***** in the bay below who felt us tugging at the lines and crawled out of the ascending baskets, escaping death from our mouths I like to think that we are them as well Because we both run from comfortable prisons, the pillow that cradles the head but entraps the heart.
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
Tillamook Crab Traps
In Carson you took my hand as we crossed the whitecapped river - cold water cramping toes, we minced our way along algaed rocks like cats tiptoeing on ice But in Tillamook we hunted Dungeoness crab and I roared for you Did you hear? We were hunting our kin - and I wondered if this could be sacrilege to the Cancers, perhaps not But I heard the quiet "Thankyou," given to each one as you lowered them into the *** the reverence in your voice soothed me like the pounding of the Pacific arm along that beach - my own golden shore - I thought I had lost it you see - Hidden in the dunes we consumed the flesh of the ***** and sat down to watch the sun melt into the blue I wanted to say thank you too But the words escaped me like your bandanna flying out from the truck Like those ***** in the bay below who felt us tugging at the lines and crawled out of the ascending baskets, escaping death from our mouths I like to think that we are them as well Because we both run from comfortable prisons, the pillow that cradles the head but entraps the heart.
lindy
Written by
lindy
American
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
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