Backwash

BACKWASH

Stones of every nation break
Up on the shore
In the wake of storms,
Some calm, some monstrous,

Launched from wars
On distant seas,
From fathers’ hate,
From destiny, but none

That stir the naked
Chords, that wake the colors
In the air, that seize
The sun, and ourselves at times,

That bring the running seas at last
To flood our crimes, or rest
On palms so bowed
By constant wind,

By the nightmare in the cloud,
By the reef that grapples tides,
That the beaches of our grief
And the breezes of our minds

Sleep like evening on our blinded eyes.

February 11th, 2023
Kaiholu