Dreaming of oceans and waves.

WALKING AFTER MACNEICE

For Sam K.

I sat down with my dreams, each cataloged and set apart

in small labeled folders with the words ‘destiny’ typed on the front,

why all this fancy order asked my past, but I kept silent,

this is not the time or place to have small talk in an eternal moment

that passes and keeps walking after my lines, I did not fret

for much longer, I sat down and imagined what my muse might say?

I could see her walking back from the surf, her dripping surfboard tucked under her arms

short hair wet with the morning patrol among waves and dawn,

she would sit by my side, put her arm around me, whisper her many thoughts

advising me to reconsider futures and words, she would then lay back

hands behind her head, looking up at scattered clouds, whistling a tune

only she and I know, I stare at her long legs, she’s tall and brilliant,

I get up and move towards the surf, when I look back she’s gone

traveling again along the Pacific mysteries, coffee in Bali

daydreams in Sri Lanka or somewhere warm with plenty of surf.

I sat down on the same spot where she had been, traced the outline of her body

writing down her name then letting the rising tide erase it,

I walked alone with the stars that had begun to appear among the orange sunset

my journal remained open to a year not yet lived, where to place my name?

and one could say a poem never ends, it is put down for a time, then left by the sea

a marker for walking children or lovers, who will hear my unknown verse

then dive into the blue ocean and forget and laugh and be all too human

for a moment

for a glimpsed moment,

whose eyes will glimpse it?

does it matter said the moon now overhead

and my mind full of Byron, Edwards, Auden, MacNeice, Owen, Spender, Dostoevsky

reminding me that I am educated and well read

and that I live among thoughts and mist

for a moment

one eternal second...