Saturday, January 4, 2020


O the simple rules
obeyed by ocean waves.

O the difficulties
complexity faces

trying in vain
to mimic those movements—

the smooth morning rolls
and the afternoon sighing;

the silent fortitude
ordained by the moonlight

and the painless breaking
away overnight

of form 
from its inevitable function.

So this then is the crest
and the pinnacle:

the refusal of flow
to relinquish its own edges,

to register the pressure,
the largess of all of the others

who have broken, 
long before this—

our fathomless, vast 
unwillingness to depend.