December 26*

minus tide

night walking on fingers
of chuckanut sandstone
at water’s edge

what the mind creates
what i choose to think and feel:

softly curved fleshforms

the boulders
chunks of void
pits of black holes
surrounded by glimmering dazzle

it is all a soft breath

but another reality
the one that seizes heart/mind in fear/dread

old concreted beaches, rebar rusted out
millions of years old
on a lifeless planet flying through the universe
in cold limitless

the nurture in that

*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.

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