Bill Knott

(1940 - 2014 / Carson City, Michigan)

Fragments from the Beach


(Nonasyllabics)

In retrospect the tragic nature
of sea is a taste wept too daily,
too depleted by freedom's rupture;
the eyes have other secrets to see

and deeper use for the detritus
within us: the bright effluvium
of ego dries up, mired as it is
in wealth, that remedial medium.

Blame it on fate, on beach memories--
pebble put in the pocket or shell
fragments; any memento carries
us as much as we it. Time capsule

contains every evening's interval.
The ocean observes its own puddle.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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Read poems about / on: beach, freedom, ocean, fate, nature, sea, time, memory

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