Chesapeake
Richard Becker
Dying embers of the sun
blink along the shore
at Yankee Point.
In the forecastle
I face your face asleep.
Dogs bark. Doves reply.
Many thoughts are one.
We lie inside our skin
where flow a million tiny suns.
And the mast ticks stars
across the sky recalling
the silver yad that plotted
a maiden voyage through
the parchment Torah’s
terrible beauty.
And on the sea we dream
of the sea that dreamt
all being into being.
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blink along the shore
at Yankee Point.
In the forecastle
I face your face asleep.
Dogs bark. Doves reply.
Many thoughts are one.
We lie inside our skin
where flow a million tiny suns.
And the mast ticks stars
across the sky recalling
the silver yad that plotted
a maiden voyage through
the parchment Torah’s
terrible beauty.
And on the sea we dream
of the sea that dreamt
all being into being.