Martin Booth
Contemplation
each wave
as it touches my metal skin
breaks
each wave
tries to call me out of this shell
of iron
each wave
wants to bless my brow
with salt
each wave
is a priest
a mentor
a dream of coolness
each wave
wants
my hair is the white crest of waves
each time this shell of iron jars
it jars on me
I am of the sea
I am of fishes
I am greater than iron
I am softer than flesh
each wave
is a nerve-ending in me
as I sleep
my blood counts tides
and runs
Page(s) 15-16
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