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Literature Text

we go out exploring the
shores.

i watch the gulls fly and alight in the snowfall.
they are trapped inside of their bodies,
implying something freer,
something cleaner

than what it is
that i am.

in a fallen space,
all this crushed snow falling.

the shore fills with shapes, white
as in formed.
clean
as in
not yet filled.

we stand together
and winter is a riverlessness.

all the horses and dogs hidden in niches,
tended to like fire.

we walk through what falls,
thinking that

growing hungry is what we
do best.

and because innocence is cancelled by
emptiness,

we do terrible things
in our hunger.

in our footfalls,
our chewing sounds.

the surf pounds the ice
that bergs up between the water
and the land.

the surges flash green-white,
the gulls are crying out.

we see so far ahead.
into a half-space
where things don't matter.

we desire whatever it is.

to coast just so.
the water is tempting to me.

the waves batter and soothe the backs
of vanished fish--

their being unseen is what
holds all my yearning.

the air seems to know
my shape.

the backlit gulls
darken wondrously against the blank spaces.

they make something.
a being.

if anything lasted,
we would know it here,

where there are moments
like snow rushing upward
in a vertigo of air,

notions that if we stand facing the water
long enough

a gull might eventually snag
a fish between troughs.

it's satisfying to be out
where
some things really might happen.
.
© 2012 - 2024 Anthony-Ryan
Comments13
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RiseandBe's avatar
"growing hungry is what we
do best.

and because innocence is cancelled by
emptiness,

we do terrible things
in our hunger."

:heart: Absolutely gorgeous!