Seaweed
The seaweed dries slowly, small decorative curls
which have been artfully spread among the stone
and shell scavenged from the beach.
As the seaweed dries salt crystallises on the rubbery skin.
As it dries farther and the moisture evaporates
entirely
the tiny
crystals drop and lie without direction on the sill.
On closer inspection it is realised how precisely formed
they are –
cubic solids on a minute scale. Midst the careful
arrangement
of conch and pebble
this fallen saline is perfection.
The last word sums up your poem Emma. Thank you
ReplyDeleteYou've enriched my morning, showing me these details.
ReplyDeletesalty gorgeousness
ReplyDeletereally beautiful. I've been enjoying your poems so much
ReplyDeleteI can smell it - and taste it (dulce)' !
ReplyDelete