Coast

1
We moved among delicate instruments,
Taking for a theme the sovereign light,
The scrimshaw, the parliament of water.
We then sought a division between things.

Once divided, truth divides forever.

We abandoned the angelic forms, smashed
Against the wood our heavenly quadrant,
Struck aimlessly from island to island.

2
We embraced without shame what was simple.
We wept to see the wild geese heading home,
The small blue flowers we could never name,
The women so ripe in their summer clothes.

The compass we held true is stopped inside.

We worship as pure the broken circle.
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