Edisto Island

The lazy synchopated rumble-ssssssss of sealogged waves
rolling ashore through shallow sandbars
seagulls scree and occasionally
the lonesome, haunted buoy bell
clattering a single tone
seeming close while far away at once.

The breeze has curling scents and salt scratches them
into eternity upon our olafactal memory
A timid orange blossom sweet and crisp
is slapped off of its playful perch
by tens of thousands seaweed
murky and thick with the carnage
of what once lived
a global reclaimation
of the sea's eternal bounty
the ocean rushes forth and back
to tell its tales
many now connected
in the rotting reaquaintance
each to all
the ocean
owns us all.

Lissssssssss
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Lissssssssssssssssss
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lisssssssssssssssssnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn