AGNI Online
  Subscribe      Donate    Stay Connected    Submit      About Us  

Tidal Flats

by Frederick Speers


Confirmed by the Common Terns that plunge-dive—
Exclamation marks into an August harbor; by

The—luminous—

                                       Moonsnails, Knobhead Whelk, and
Periwinkle; by the sun-interrogated

Ghost-crabs flung
Among the pale straws fired through marl;

By the tiny brackish waves that recall only

                              That residual chore, to carry on
And on about you; by the lonely Laughing

Gull, heading home in every direction; by
The—dulled—

Coca-Cola shards confused with Brittle Stars, and
Half-buried in the wet gauze of grass; by

The sand-drawn skull that you had claimed

To be no less than the “circumference
               Of knowledge”; and

By the least physical of all problems
                                                                                 —Your two,

Cloudy, dark-blue eyes that had convinced me
There were no such things as lies.

 

Frederick Speers is a poet living in Boston. In December he will be moving to San Diego.


End of Article
AGNI Magazine :: published at Boston University ©2008 AGNI