“The ocean makes its thrum…”… “Ashore,” my poem
Each layered wave…
Ashore
This place, it has no words for me.
The ocean makes its thrum,
it pulls the bow across the longest string…
Each layered wave aspires to end in surf,
and lightly bears its encumbering crest,
wavers at the sandy lip
and rolls beneath the swell,
makes room for every motion
that was born afar in blue water,
and sidles now to make a final turn,
becomes mere rhythm…
May 6, 2021
Ogunquit, ME
It was high tide at the Beachmere Inn.
The broad curve of the bay accepted the languid procession of modest waves…
it all seemed so unexceptional, but I know that each wave is unique until it gets to the shore line.
The tableau did not speak to me. I know that my presence was not needed.
Published in Creative Inspirations, January-February 2023
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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2024 All rights reserved.
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Seeing far: Selected poems with 47 free verse and haiku poems,
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