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Rating: 3.3
This day winding down now
At God speeded summer's end
In the torrent salmon sun,
In my seashaken house
On a breakneck of rocks
Tangled with chirrup and fruit,
Froth, flute, fin, and quill
At a wood's dancing hoof,
By scummed, starfish sands
With their fishwife cross
Gulls, pipers, cockles, and snails,
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Water Clocks 17 April 2018
Strange and beautiful poem. Maybe the flood is his death and the ark he builds his poetry. It's an ark because it's full of all the joy and mystery of the world and being alive. He wants that joy to survive against whatever darkness might come after he's gone.
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Kora Larkin 07 November 2015
That is some dark pirate stuff. Talk about intense. I love it!
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