Sunday, 14 January 2018

Near the dinosaur caves, Inverloch 2018.

Peering down Inverloch’s cliff face, gives witness
to Ocean’s rage — spurned mistress,
She once blanketed Earth, what gossips
single cells could tell in that ancient bedding down;
the steam, the explosions, the settling of mountains
until the two sated lovers rested; Ocean
unaware, as she felt the moon tug her to sleep,
Earth cooled, slipped away in the night,
forever since greets the sun —
now foe against the land, Ocean
tosses white tears high into the sky,
butterflies of salt and foam that glitter in the light
then fall back into the whole.

What strikes most looking at this site
is that once this was a river; millions of years ago
dinosaur wandered the banks, chewed through ferns
(where seaweed now trails in green tales untold)
while shaking the soil with feet larger
than a large man’s large head. This tidal-time of day
denies a visit to caves hoping to see imprints
of colossal feet, the caves are submerged,
having listened again to ocean’s liquid tirade.

Earth resists yet below there are thousands of rocks
rounded by Ocean’s relentless words, testament
to the places where He has lost momentary arguments.
The dinosaur bones remain despite Earth
having moved on… then forgetfully He turned around
and found Ocean’s rage as a greeting —
She never ceases, never lacks the thirst
to lick with corrosive tongue a million times or more
bones left behind… Ocean does not forget.

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