by Nathan Breck

Created on: August 13, 2009

Dirtblack islands in an ice-gray ripple: my mother,

She made me too, and all the movements

I have seen her make have been reflected

In the windowpane between the skullside shade,

The outer color of the sky remade as well,

The lower color of the earth a ring within

The ocean-gray. So two hues interdominate,

And in a mingled mixture of a dance,

Behold and are beheld around the central disc:

For there is a dark hole into my brain,

Which reflects on a lifetime of refraction.

The brown island at times flowers greenly:

Do you see palm-sparkles in the day?

Sometimes the sea rises: hurricane,

And then the sea does not refrain from washing,

But pours around the well into my mind:

Crying from the roaring waves,

The mermaid in my eye crying, "Mother!"

Learn more about this author, Nathan Breck.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.