"Your nature is all you can know of mine."
More Perihelion:
Bob Sward's Writer's Friendship Series
Lo
The sky is darkening and drops of rain
fly on the warm wind, making me feel
Romantic, alone with the sea.
Refusing the cozy comradeship of injury
the great big sea looks out and away from the surf
nudging its oil-numbed corpses. A tiny tanker edges
towards the sky. "I have a higher calling,"
says the sea. "I maintain certain standards.
Your nature is all you can know of mine.
I'm not a tub of saline slopping
around the world, nor yet 'the infinitely pleated
tunic of the god,' and certainly no kind of bosom.
Pay attention and watch your language."
"Thank you, sea," I say.
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