Copyright 2010 Roberta Osborn. All rights reserved.
My Poetry
Clam-Like
There is more to say on this agenda:
Bright, like glints off
horizon semaphores;
constant and caressing as wave rush;
as distinctly heard as foghorns
in the dark.
To find that calm
in the heavy wind and lashing torrent
the same as beach naps and little breezes,
is our objective today.
I won’t throw away the ocean
because it pulls the sand from under my feet,
but wiggle my toes a little deeper
as the tide pulls out
to form the next assault on my balance.
Or, if I’m feeling a little valiant,
I’ll jump past the breakers
and just float awhile,
with the swells.
