I am not here to watch black water rise,
Or reach what I can not: the inlet’s stillness
Lapping shoreless wooded promontories.
I do not approach stone for some new sunrise
Or to wonder over unlikely bliss,
Not for any invisible thing. Seas
Exist which do not heal, instead destroy
The best in every heart, punish all hope.
No, I am here for Beauty: desire or
Tangibles. No future plot or dark ploy
Roils but white arcs swoop in kaleidoscope
Dive; black-throated birds on water’s mirror
Feed mouth-to-mouth, immediate kisses.
Here, I write and a grief diminishes.