In the shallows twisting in mud
here i crouch
like an old carpenter- hammering
wood for a journey,
wood from an old barn
in a life that was
young once- now the sea i yearn.
Once the field i sat like a pebble
in a stream-
cold and empty, watery shadows;
all the sun round,
all the moon i heard calling from
the sea. …in a
yearning i came, in the mercy of its means.
No more the owl, the calves, horses
waking in the morn,
like a wanderer under new made clouds,
happy was my heart;
my wish now, nothing else do i care
in remaining days,
i must build, over the winding of the sea.
Copyright © 05/15/2016 lance sheridan