To walk between the waves and wrack
with ankles numbed and eyes salt squinted,
glints of room things wash away,
while sandy soles forget what’s far.
A comber as it ever was
encompasses and brings to shore
all glories and unnoticed moments,
To take the hand of who did skirt
all continents, an edge addressed,
a mighty Kingdom made of village,
hamlet, hearth and heart, a chain.
But not a fetter, more a necklace,
on a fair throat, throbbed and kissed.
In mist we find what’s missed and cherished,
with averted eyes, we stare.
A care, in soft, uncanny daydream,
all our being, beams in brief,
like tern cries half imaginary,
rookeries of ghost and thief.
– Andrew Sano