The Throw Poem by Eric Ratcliffe
The Throw
Barefoot on granite wait I,
who threw a silver javelin
into the shimmering land of whispers,
and watched the wraiths divide
as though a chime had ended Hallowe'en.
Somewhere beyond the dawn a mermaid died;
the sea sent her comb to me,
with a wisp of her poor green hair
and a sigh for the savage who speared for fish
where white immortals moved.
Friday, June 4, 2004
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4/23/2024 8:22:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
