The Wild Muse

wildness, wonder, and the spirit of place

Poetics

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Another stranger called the beloved sea

This first thing I noticed was his large face
and the way his eyes blinked with each word –

Give me your hand. Give me your hand. He pushed
until I gave him my hand and walked through

my door and into the world
of transparency.

It was silent and wet.
My dress pooled in the dew, and the horses swam

among us like dolphins.
Somehow, a sea rose up behind the hill

and my house became a lighthouse;
the goats became gulls.

A bone in snow illumined –
the moon gasped for air.

Years passed – my years –
and I grew smaller in this distance.

I remained without a family
to repair my slipped frame

or witness how slowly
my oak arms moved underwater.

In the blur,
I noticed other things

about him. He never ate. He did not sleep.
He had no body – but he must have had a body –

he must have … My questions
chilled me. My arms felt weak

until I became
another part of him.

A belly swelled
like the rolling wave.
I was also wave
and formless

space – I became
no one.

I should have known the bewildered son,
the way the tide comes

in … and

the sound of moving water
and breath. My breath.


© Aleah Sato
* first appeared in Ex Cathedra Literary Journal

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Author: Aleah Sato

Writer, wanderer, dreamer, desert dweller

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