They break up big boulders, near the houses where I live,
what I see used to be the bottom of an old ocean.
The stones break easily, pieces glitter as crystal in the sun.
I pick up a splinter, lick it and can taste the cool, clear sea.
My inner ear picks up the sea’s ripples on the strand, but
also, the contented hum of an ocean alone. I also hear its
ire as waves upon waves, futilely, crashes on to jagged
cliffs of perpetuity. Overcome by awe I’ve tasted eternity,
It’s salty; and if you get too obsessed about it, can give you
fatally high blood pressure.
Comments about this poem (old ocean by oskar hansen )
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