The stone from
the petrified forest
curved to my
grip. It hid
in my palm
all day: I
clutched it for
magic.
Towers of
spray swirled, fell,
slid and regathered.
Signposts warned us
chunks of path
could drop from
beneath our feet
abruptly.
A merman
played in my
mind in the
green, lonely in
these wild waters,
these last wild
waters. His race
is extinct now.
© Rosemary Nissen 1988
First published Country Collection anthology (Warrnambool Writers’ group)
Also in Secret Leopard (Paris, Alyscamps, 2005)
Posted here now in order to show someone who hasn't got the book.
Also linking to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #397
Posted here now in order to show someone who hasn't got the book.
Also linking to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #397