Spectral Sounding

Sounding the shore rocks
making hollow echo's
like water clasping and letting go.

Your dawn is waking;
moving like a flutter on my
shoulders aching.

Brother over the waters;
brother over the sails,
the sea we travel is heavy;
the skies turbulent and pale.

Moving to the pictures
damaged by the shocked birth
of something larger undertow.

Others wear their wool vests with watch fobs.
It is unseasonable, but we didn't particularly
find the door to perfection.

It was already in us if we only knew it.
Precarious, and on the edge of two worlds.

I sound the shore rocks.
You shake from your sleep.


Echos, echos,
carry them close.
Hear the clasping of water,
and of the letting go.

-Sonja J. Johnston © 27-Dec-2015