from “Flying Point”
DJ Dolack
The sea
calls to witness
some vastness
or that which
is only a declaration
of the limited
and the countable.
And the sun some tourist
wades out each morning
in obligation
to touch
for a few moments
and to forget and drown.
And then later the moon
high as a pill
does its own work
emitting no light but re-guiding
light emitted by another:
six ships in the hour
follow each other
far off
into some great
length of silence.
