My shell,
that posture sprung defender,
protects me well against the tide of night,
a bastion, to fight the cold of shrinking light
am I then the pearl, perhaps I am the meat,
I know not which,
but when I lie within my oyster bed
to twitch and snore within my rumpled dreaming head
I am complete, secure, as much as one can ever be
afloat and sailing on that dark mysterious sea,
and if that rude and uncouth youth we call a clock
should clap its chapped and chattering hands,
to bring me all befuddled into land
then let me wake and take a moment’s breath
before I stagger up the beach
and out across today’s wet sand
Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 10:20 AM UTC
My shell,
that posture sprung defender,
protects me well against the tide of night,
a bastion, to fight the cold of shrinking light
am I then the pearl, perhaps I am the meat,
I know not which,
but when I lie within my oyster bed
to twitch and snore within my rumpled dreaming head
I am complete, secure, as much as one can ever be
afloat and sailing on that dark mysterious sea,
and if that rude and uncouth youth we call a clock
should clap its chapped and chattering hands,
to bring me all befuddled into land
then let me wake and take a moment’s breath
before I stagger up the beach
and out across today’s wet sand
