So Opened Poem by Ivy Beam

lone gull,
sips from the frothing
whitecaps.
Speeding, speeding FOREVER.
USed to experience, grown
jaded, yes yes magic's faded.
Movement is slowed like bread
crumbs in honey stirred in a pot
(it's blue) by a sweaty worn mother
with wisps of curly hair exposing
themselves from the headwrap,
their prison. So come the days,
So go the days.Can't they linger
awhile? Play and flaunt their fabulous
faces? A whispering hill never stays
green and it's all confounded in a
glance.
A glance so loud it penetrates
the thickest brown numb mind.
(Do you see the brain tissues
throbbing squirming pulsing
THINKING?) He's been awakened
Sweat runs down his temple past
ruffled brown hair. Talkative breath
(Look how his candid eyes roll about
the landscape) ..