Wednesday, June 21, 2017


In walking this seashore, I notice I step
through the sand, not so much upon it  -
a realization as useless as it is curious.
How much then of this rounded, serious
globe do I inhabit, and is it somehow
taking me in? To my left, if that too 
means anything, scattered boats ride 
the surface, chained and tethered, as 
they are, to stay in place. A tall, strange
order. Absentee ownership, in the case 
of a boat, basically means tying it up
while setting it adrift (paradoxical
conundrum, yes), and walking off.
Off? Upon? Atop? - some Earth.

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