Water Moths Don'T Rush In
Poem by David Floren
Squirm in your seat and grind your teeth,
Rub your hands and set your jaw
Right when it takes you.
Snorkel through a thicket of kelp,
Churned with sand in the current
Right when it snags you.
Resume the sometimes wolf search
For the “sometime soon” cry
Right when it lurches you.
Squirm in your head and grind your now,
Rub your chin and set your course
Right when it finds you.
Swim nearer to a murky,
A maybe fish, clue
Right when it hits you.
Resume the peering and veering,
The sometimes seeming to see
The right “it” nearing.
Right now it’s off in its own
Little moon. It hides so close,
There is a tide.
In the affairs of ebb & flow.
As you know, it-
Glimpses are scarce few.
Flipper for its glimmer!
Whether teeth or closure,
Either furnish answer.
First emerge from your safe
And sound submersible.
Make convergence with
Found brilliance possible.
Leave the fizzling and drowning
To clowns whose wings melt.
[11-13-03 Santa Rosa, CA]
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