Acrostic

May the crease and cross of sea
That wraps the morning bed in sound,
The overlapping wrist and knee
That your tumbled dreams have wound,
And the summer’s slow and even beat
Across the ripple of the ground

Bleach your sleeping limbs in spray
Like the breakers’ linen white,
Comb your labyrinthine way
Through the laundry of the night,
Dry you steadily as waves
In the winter’s Clorox light;

In the coming cycle’s twists,
Tide you over in the sun
Rising through the rolling mists:
May the shallows of the bay be run,
As the rising light insists
We breach the maze before we’re done.

October 22nd, 1986

February 5th, 2018

March 29th, 2024
Kaiholu