procession

(choice and
not my choosing)

mar by
wind mercy
grateful when the
sun does hurt
it is only lime
stone pebbled
out by the aves
on the turning
tide
wing brought
arachnid
smaller folding
in worn away
places in my
feet
and turns
succeed
wind ‘round
the sedimentary
spine
lined up lived
down lived
erosion
and on the
current
harped by
the whistle
zephyr
through windows
after mate song
and lapped to
shore cliff
come to sand
sun for sleep
and arachnid
comes close
to her ear
to hear
the ocean
in her shell
he drives
the torrent stronger
the aves after
zephyr
or before
turning the zenith
low
and in the sun
bellow
the salt
and gallows ships
coral making
memorial
dribble castle
storied history
shroud for
a turning
atol marking
by mar
till the wind’s
mercy licks
level places
for sailing again
the transport
of deviance