My body settles into the current
as your heart becomes a map
to the chambers of ocean caves
I often dream of
and within, carve totems
of pelican and mullet
the yellow window of their eyes.
Drifting toward the skyline
the last light of afternoon gone under
I hear their tidal music
and begin to hum
flattening out all the words
that are impossible to speak today
all the poems I should have written.
And when our skin starts to soften
the moon somehow appears
to pierce the salty darkness
and say it all without language
returning us to our regular dreams
and rituals that suppress the desires
of children living under our skin.
* Poem taken from the longer sequence, Noosa River Poems. Photograph by Cindy Keong.
