Salmon Nets and the Sea

(After Joan Eardley)


A trailer, tipped up    identifier

by nets stretched to black frames, lit vermilion

a yellow flicker    out of browns wheeling into gunmetal

as gulls might do    inhabiting a band of foam and grit

xxxxa hurled transforming density of being


The nets are lines flying across the field of vision

xxxxinto the creamy spill and drip of ocean

xxxxsucked back to a blue deeper than translucence

petrol    and the sky oily dark

xxxxxxxx(and the wheeling invisible gulls)


xxxxxxxxyet nothing of steel

in the lowering spray, the flung moisture I stand in

cut by particles of the minute    invisible and indivisible

self dispersed    and coalescing

a bodily coherence    in the grit and oil of matter



from Uncommon Place, Shearsman, 2019