My Silent Noon Poem by James McLain

Your hand open lies in the hot golden sand fresh salty breath.
it is visible shimering this long wave this silence.
I sift each grain as they fall one by one up and down, noons hour-glass.

Off running deep in the sun-parched ocean grows the dragon fish-sharp penetrating serrated these horns.
The right angled slant burns the sun,
it hangs down like pale yellow thread loosened from the sky,
hung up pulled are the clouds all around me.


So can this stroke of soft wind be we as the lovers
waiting this out for hours and each hour more like rain?

The clouds sweeping by clear to us dropp to us all from below
when blown as if mist from above.

Oh! and the clasping of it swimming merrily as can we.
Look to it as it falls on our fast racing hearts.
World of this shallow my hand sea maiden no silver linning.
This is as to most when they often come here.
Accompanied at this known particular hope wrapped in this hour

each second we held off our voice silent I wait.
When twofold the silence was the song of dolpins in love.