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| (not my photo)
The Bay - 1954
We swam in the bay
on one of the nights of the phosphorescence
stirring the cold fire around us
shaking the essence of prophets
in finger lightening
at the sky
And everywhere the frightened fish
appealed to comets
in the sign language of falling stars
Reentering the world
on finless feet we stood a while
in clammy underwear
watching the night taking shape
falling into place
around us
And suddenly we all got dressed
because the hungry light of human skin
cannot succumb to sorcery
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Friday, February 9, 2018
the Bay - 1954 Poem
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