Hans Ostrom. Poet, professor, etc.
Friday, February 8, 2013
No Answer to the Ocean
It's like this, maybe: A tide comes in.
It brings things you come to believe.
There they are, objects on glassy sand.
They're what's come of all your coping.
A stone, a crab-shell, a worn piece of
wood, a string of kelp. They're no answer
to the ocean. They don't add up to a code.
You keep walking on the beach,
trying to figure things out. There's
nothing wrong with that--walking,
wondering. What are you hoping for?
February 08, 2013
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