open 

old man on the beach
he might have wept

nothing worth the keeping
could be kept

the house on the shore
stands empty now

a cupboard door
swings open

only the boat lies broken
not the ocean

from another ocean 

tales were told at table

that night
and when it came to my turn

I said
why is it always my turn

and the answer came back
you’re the only one

here
so I recounted the days of my

youth
which I missed grievously

and told
of sorrows and lost loves

and worse things
wearing my heart wide open

recalling
the story of the whale mother

singing
to her stolen calf unceasingly

even
from another ocean

quicksilver

lunar glow upon the ocean
a thousand times he casts his net
never has he caught her yet
steadfast his devotion

quicksilver love is wild and senseless
now he casts his body in
never to return again
quicksilver love is endless

the moon it smiles upon the ocean
evermore her smile is set
evermore she’ll cast her net
in vain for such devotion