Alone With Wine on the Gulf

ALONE WITH WINE ON THE GULF


The gulf goes towards us,
Then goes away,
leaves from its depths, a bouquet,
gold, globular, berries between
gold leaves on a golden stem,
seaweed speckled with sand,
each grain has known
the mysteries of the gulf’s bottom.
I gaze at the grains, see through their skin.
In the location where human beings have hearts,
the sand grain has an alphabet
of lightning flashes,
flashes that came from the earth’s center,
not the sky.
I read the sentences made out of fire.


Duane Locke

Posted over on Badosa