Listening to spills of waves


The sea washes the slate
of this beach clean,
yet I wonder who cleanses
the ocean of its memories;
does it hold them all in
in deep tidal breaths?

It carries all shipwrecks,
tragedies and treasures alike,
and seldom do disclosures
bob up to surface
in the confiding of waves
unless you know where to hear.

And only then if you can
distinguish one cove dialect
from another and another,
keeping those secrets
in shell confidence,
preserved like the doubloons
in the oily rock pool
nobody’s ever seen but me.

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2 thoughts on “Listening to spills of waves

  1. Uncle Tree says:

    I like the way you’ve begged the question, Matt.
    It has become apparent to me that it works well
    for you when you put it to it just right.

    “shell confidence” was a keenly brilliant idea.

    The best kept secrets are always easier to obtain
    when one is alone, As a matter of fact, that may
    be the only time it ever, ever happens. Answers
    do come mysteriously, it just takes some getting
    used to. The point was…you were seen, I believe.

  2. nectarfizz says:

    I see you, always. Sometimes the only answer we need, is one one nature gives us.

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