Mary by the Sea

Mary By the Sea

It was a question unexpected
while thinking by the sea—

¨Where were you a moment ago?¨

Out far on the mystical assumption of waves
where what the eye no longer sees
is cared for by the sun.
I arrived there, coppery wet
from this font of tidal glory,
full of awe and just a bit of seaweed
caught in a wrinkle of my sleeve.

I went there to pray.

You nodded, and pointed toward a fish
who in the merriment of evening light
seemed to be smiling.
And perhaps that was a wink?

c. MperiodPress

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