nothing further
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

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

and taut
as a lute string

strung from zip to zip
as distant as a hoax
a hold we never grip

by Jim Culleny 9/7/12




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