80. MOLLUSKS

mollusks we trillion
weaned out of
the sand of dreams
       hardened by
       sun
       wind
       storm
       rain
       cold
       fire
we creep to the sea
over a beach of groaning woods
              acid sand
              crystal sand
              red sand
leaving ring
       after ring
a tunnel
growing darker
       to the sea
some stop
       don’t start again
              crumble
with every storm
       we dig deeper
caught in the first soft lines
soft water soft bubbles we
push on through a millennium
as afternoon sunlight begins to
falter into darkness’ first and
most vague intimacies of gray
       In the first waves we
              lose comprehension
       each wave
              a billion years
              lost, snapped, momentary time
              we grow
              tunneling
              darker
              ah the sea

we who still move on
outposts ever farther separate
              leave the curling trappers
              in the cities in the green waters
              where they wait brightly to
              share their shells with the
              lover, the warmer, the killer

no
for us
is only the
whale—like sea
vast womb as we travel
                            unravel
                     backward in time
              alone
       into
    the
darkening seadeeps

I am the fisherman of the
ages waiting lonely and hidden
eons a million million, in the
abysmal canyons of a silent black sea
fading slowly
              until I crumble
am dragged deeper still alone
by clouded toneless waters

         —Bell of dreams—