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Singing Sands

the begging water
strokes island flanks

between two rises
is a bruise of lupins
land skin   sea skin
shiver in the wake
of yesterday's storm

if we take hard little steps
we can make the sand flute
phantom birds under our feet

we migrate slowly
into the sliding cold of jade
and casting our faces in glass
we brush aside the dark
ribbons of drift weed

absolved by the weight
of water we become hollow
and fly downwards
far enough to breast
the silenced shoals

falling up again we barely
escape the kisses of jelly fish
those floating blood roses
afraid of the drying wind

Previously published in 2008,
Arborealis: A Canadian Anthology of Poetry
Edited & Compiled by Allan Briemaster,
A Beret Days Book
For more information go to www.theontariopoetrysociety.ca