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He had walked out into the sea
and stood in a glitter of water
Surprised by his want and
the feel of the waves running over his skin.
He’d walked early out into the cold day
waiting for the wind to die down
the old year slipping
uncertain, pressed close to the walls
and in the worn places
He ached for the smell of new houses
remembering her body’s red roar
and now knees crossed, netting themselves
into themselves
brought him here to the water and
bright, fatal thoughts in the early air.
copyright 2005
Yvonne
Garrett |
