They love the rock embracing
so hard they are footling
sucked to the tide tendrils of love
spiraling yellow string
rampant possibility of the waving world
inheriting the green turning into themselves.
When hand held they bauble
round as seaweed bubbles
mollusk inedible blue slime into the wavering.
We find them, one after the other
as content as clover
in the meadows of algae
eating and eating the bloom
turning it into slugform
feeling the oceans’ hymn
hum through their slippy skin
as slow as eating as careful small fingers
grip the lubricant body
to return it to the pool
it washed in winging flankward
worming back to rock.
How nice to read a series of poems from you Lucy. I probably read them in reverse order.
ReplyDeleteA slippy slimy deliciously tactile poem
ReplyDeleteMany thanks, I was out of range for a few days, but still poeming!
ReplyDelete