This Sort of Thing...

 

Fathoms Above

12/02/2025

 

This icy day of dagger wind

I scan the squally sea above

Where waves and whales and sailing ships

Collide and slide in tangled whirls

With herring gulls, white horses' manes

‘til the sea I saw is seen no more

Just gnarled contortions of my mind

White and black erupt with grey

Twist and spout and swoop and sprout

And turn about to start again

My thoughtscape ebbs

Wild figments flow

Dreams like driftwood washed ashore

From the pelagic cumulonimbus realm

Where I dipped a single frozen toe 

 

ABC 153

 

 

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