In everything, I see water
gazing at the mountains, purply blue swells lapping at the curve of the earth, fading into the distant nothing which is everythingness, I feel the tug of an old tide, the undeniable call of gravity, of moon, of women, of salt Some might call this home sickness, but it's deeper than that and stronger, its channels coursing with life, countless bioluminescing creatures, impossibly large ancient things, like no withering sickness I know Even in this crisp snow, frozen spectacle I feel adrift, a thousand waves suspended, broken into particles observing, surrounding waiting for the melt |
Writing, writingA blog of mostly poems, some prose. Recent works will be added to the top, and older pieces are backdated. Please write me a note if you have any questions, etc! Archives
October 2017
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All works are original and copyright Sarah Hirsch, 2017. Please contact me directly if you would like permission to use any images or words. Thank you!
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