nothing’s further than horizon
on a day at sea

line beyond humps of swells
storm surge nil
as sea slaps hull

wide crisp ring
or noose

incision made in gray and gray
between high and low
a rift we never breach
but ever keep our eyes on

a ledge we never reach
the prey we never catch
a shore without a beach
a gate without a latch

horizon is tight-lipped
and taut as a lute string
strung from zip to zip
distant as a hoax,
a hold we never grip

by Jim Culleny 9/7/12




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s