BESIDE THE SEA
These flowers burn my hands
As they are delivered to me.
I must have gone out at some
Point to gather something like them.
But they became too many bouquets ,
Too many different ideas of what
Time allowed me to find. I am
Sure it was for time’s amusement,
Just as it finds so many literatures
To poke at as one might a jellyfish,
With a stick, between tides.
This then, is between tides.
I will be patient with it all
And carefully map out the
Labyrinths, make deliberate choices,
Find a mysterious object, half-buried
In the sand, carefully lift it, turn
It over, only to discover a perfect mirror.