Читать книгу Intrusive Beauty - Joseph J. Capista - Страница 15

The Beautiful Things of the Earth Become More Dear as They Elude Pursuit

Another wave rolls over me before

I clear its crest. I haven’t surfed since June.

Foam lifts me, holds me, sings me back toward shore.

Sunrise grows a little smaller, further

away. I’m sheathed in leaky neoprene.

Another wave rolls over me before

I catch, then lose, my breath: the atmosphere

and sea gleam mica, glint their pinks and greens.

Foam lifts me, holds me, sings me back toward shore

as something flickers in a distant trough;

lit windblown water droplets—jewels—they shine.

Another wave rolls over me. Before

my eyes, a distant skimmer nears and spears

a silverside. It’s gorgeous, then it’s gone.

Foam lifts me, holds me, sings me back toward shore.

“Your poem,” said Danny, “needs more beauty. More.”

I paddle, touch the water to touch sun.

Another wave rolls over me before

I’m lifted, held, I’m sung right back to shore.