Oceanside VIII (Jellyfish) |
In the midst of the surfs roar |
in patient retreat |
from the rippled, wavewashed |
sand of a beach |
the still, clear blob of a jellyfish |
lies alone in the sand |
surrounded by |
abandoned puddles of sea. |
© Jon Bohrn (1998) |
Oceanside IX (To a dead loon) |
Im sorry to see, Mr. Loon |
that you are here all alone, |
sprawled on your side in the surf, |
waves flowing endless |
through mottled drenched feathers, |
your legs parchment twigs, |
your eyes unseeing, |
your half-open beak |
now buried in surf and the sand. |
If you were alive |
youd think it undignified |
to have someone like me |
approach you so close |
and gawk at whats left |
of your once-birdlike splendor. |
I promise, |
I shall remember you |
in your better days. |
© Jon Bohrn (1998) |