Saltwater
What if you close your eyes
and your throat relinquishes
the morning’s bright
fingers, freed from bruises.
Suppose that particular night
never happened, the way
a wave crashing ashore
empties itself and trickles
back in separate communities,
mingling yet aloof, a
diminishing cortege. What
is the question? Take this
spoon. Fill it with saltwater.
Upend it into the pail. Observe.
“Saltwater” was first published in Nine Muses Poetry in May 2018.
You’ve triggered my inner puzzler … befuddled by the pail (empty? tilted? metal or plastic?)
Waves receding from shore into separate communities is luring imagery …
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I wondered the same thing myself!
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The pail might be half full. Or empty. 🙂
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OK … guessing puzzled is intended?
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Perhaps to evoke questions…
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Thanks for a great poem well penned and crafted. The imagery is superb. I love the line …the morning’s bright – fingers, freed from bruises. Have a great day. Goff
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Thanks very much, Goff.
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My pleasure.
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Reblogged this on Just One Take and commented:
“Suppose that particular night never happened, the way a wave crashing ashore empties itself and trickles back in separate communities, mingling yet aloof, a diminishing cortege.”
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Thanks for reblogging this, Jackie. Much appreciated!
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I’m happy to reblog – it’s a beautiful poem!
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Pingback: Saltwater — O at the Edges – jetsetterweb
Sharp. Provoking. A nice find on a Sunday afternoon. 🙂
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I’m so pleased you found it, Marie. Thank you!
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Pingback: Saltwater — O at the Edges | The Iridescent Bubble
Very nice seaside feelings⛱
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Thanks very much.
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