I.
Listen—the sea
is memorising stones
retracing steps,
chalcedony and quartz.
The cave is thronged
and purged, the tide touches
every treasure,
scrapes the vellum clean.
Starting again
at first light, wakes to find
liquor and pearl,
the shells albumen-wet
a saffron morsel
for an early gull.
II.
If I could choose?
(I know, but bear with me.)
A night in June,
the dryads gathering
jasmine, rose petals,
sleeping where they fall.
Wine tangling
the radio waves, goodbye.
Orion and Auriga,
needle stings.
Sapphires in our tin roof,
Fabergé moon.
A phosphor scratch,
just once, a meteor.
Aleph, atom, æther, morning star,
aphelion and solstice, omega.
vspr.st 