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Clear Sailing

by Oonah V. Joslin


odourless tasteless
can be any shape
or escaped
its never still surface
tension quivering
vibration shimmering
speeds flows washes
outward from rigid confinement
ergonomic mould
for our delight


river racing
between stone walls
how vivid once your valley
green and linear
between the sheeped bleak Beacons’ heights
where lambs do spring

fifteen years percolating clear
deep beneath limestone-layered rock
and here you greet my thirst

four hundred miles away I buy
a bottle of Brecon water to refresh
that part of me
that still feels Welsh


my clear backdrop to
every day

hydrogen oxygen calcium
we are so similarly

privileged I
to reach out
and you are there

eau if I knew
how to appreciate you
in every context of your vital art
hear your language as more than a babble
taste your diversity
your power

I might learn from you
the value of me


how could the bottle get to Mars...

the rover shows it small and blue
futile on the red dustscape
homesick perhaps for ocean Earth

this surface would
collapse your outer shell
would suck you dry
enjoy you

meant to bubble upwards
from the source
trickle to gush to flow
through eddies banks tussocks muddy pools
meet flowers frogs insects
seep at last to sea

your journey stolen
you are out of your sphere

here and now
fearless and tearless
you must give your all
since you cannot make a future of the past

Copyright © 2011 by Oonah V. Joslin

To Challenge 416...

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