In the flesh of these wings
sea swells,

salt in their workings
salt in their sweat.

Rising in the marrow, rain
makes every cell mutinous as rivers.

Worked by salt these wings
wind take me higher

to consider sea or sky
before I dry out,

before sun makes horizon,
makes sense of this greyness.

The wind will take me down and up
and only so far

before I nose
nerve-straight for the water,

gills squalling for breath;
before the current turns,

or whatever turns the current stops,
whatever moves me on strings of air,

whatever shakes out the sea
like a blanket in the backyard.

Published inĀ Channel



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Mohamed Sarfan's picture

Dear Poeter, The sea is a magical world full of wonders. Every wave that touches the foot of the man sitting on the shore explores the life of man into the deep sea. Even the poems that touch the salty mane are going to teach a lesson in human life. Write More Congratulations

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