Tangled fingers









Beach toes, water hands and foam cups,
how fishes slip between solar oil
I know the dipping of the dunes
and the grass growing on their peaks

tangled fingers, long knives and sea crests
waves snapping in the winds
the sides of the water absorb
who will walk the jetty’s

the sea, the sea

the gulls calling the fish together
horizon cut by sailing vessels
throw a leg to the beachcomber
reveal the white whale bodies

where the sun will flood in the ground
and heaven melts with the blue sky
in the glow of wooden staves
there where the catch
counts the fishermen.

© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere

21/09/2014

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