The sea
frightens
me.

Too deep
wide
dark
ice
wet
filled with
creatures

It does
not stop.

Kisses sweetly
the sandy
shoreline:
Is it teasing
or begging
forgiveness?

It cannot
stop.

My fear
lies in the
immensity of
its depths
and
in the
thought that
pleasing or
pleading

The ocean
will kiss
the shoreline
-always-
with a frothy
caress

No one to
before
anymore

To think
more than
to do with

The width
of the sun
as remebered
in a memory
-thin as a
road- it
rose in
rows of
somelight

Before us
-around me-
to you, to
no one

I see it
-the poem-
and it sees
me from within
myself as well.
It tells me to write

not about things
that have meaning, but
to write things that
have meaning:

The stone and
the face of the stone,
and the voices
within it too