Saturday, May 14, 2011


The cove this morning, a sliver…
Seamless vein of sterling silver
Whitish chunks of driftwood;
Titanics on a Tantric river.

Mountains, boats and Penn Cove Pier,
Shine in graphite gray and white.
Illuminated with the morning sun,
Charcoal’s dim lit stormy night.

Dark blue turns to gray scale,
Eventually turning hues titanium.
The world returns to silver,
On this full moon splashed uranium.

Beams lowered from the heavens
Spray the water with pure zincs,
Temperature rises with the tide,
The spirit surfaces, then sinks.

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