Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Inner passage

Over the lip of this cliff
the bones of stones
push half-broken
into setting sunlight

I can see breakers
not so much a colour
as a quality of light
against the dimming shore
thin as a diamond-scored line
on the hinge
of the moment
between two worlds

The waves curl
into the lap
of the rocky beach below
and fall back
overrun by the next
a point
an infinite line

above and behind me
a herring gull screams
then flies out
over the edge
toward Japan


Anonymous said...

Bones of stones...

coyote said...

Yes, well. I have pawed into bone beds at the bases of one or two bison jumps in my time. After 6 000-plus years, the half-fossilized artifacts one finds there are not good eating anymore.

More importantly, they are eroded to reveal an interior structure which resembles that of a sponge, except that the lattice is hard.

Finally, what I'm on about: the action of a couple of aeons' worth of seawater wears certain varieties of exposed bedrock on the west coast of this continent into something wierdly similar, although on a much grander scale. I could think of nothing else but earth's bones when I saw it.