303 – Wvves

Wvves

What people want

out of a poem

(Mary O. said this

the other day)

is clarity of a thing

unclear, pulled out

and looked at plain.

Tonight it’s dark

and stormy

and only looks

to get worse.

The poem becomes

the wind and sting

of salt, the meaning

made in the moment

before the next wvve hits.

This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *