Inside the womb of deepest sea,
Turtle moms are growing fatter.
The eggs may be getting ready
For hatching on the beach sand.
We can sense the fecund season
By the carcasses washed ashore.
Sea in window
The windows went still and blue.
Not a wave would roll in the sea
On the mossy smudges of rocks.
Sea breathed its vapor on glass.
Glass went blue on the hazy sea
At a sky where it dropped down.
Crowd on the beach were crows.
Perhaps it was other way round.
We could write with our fingers
On grime in other side of glass
A cleaner would hang on ledge
And wipe sea’s vaporous cloud
Till sky turned orange and blue.
At dawn ,sea is back in window.
Poems at 5 A.M.
You may go through coconuts.
Trees can only be more lovely
Than poem you write at 5 AM.
Coconuts stand mute by a sea,
By its waves in their darkness.
They had come here from far.
Crows wake up a sleeping sea
And have first right on its fish.
Fish have no rights on a beach.
By the sea the poet has a right
To reflect upon human misery
Like Sophocles on the Aegean.
(Recalling bits of Mathew Arnold’s poem Dover Beach)
Mountains of clouds
My morning opens a dark sea,
Bleary eyed with night’s sleep,
To find the sea turned to lake
Unruffled by wind and waves.
There are clouds at eyes’ end,
Like mountains at lake’s edge.
Between me and dark clouds
Are ships that flickered lights.
A lone star flickers after a sky
As if it is one more ship’s light.
Lighted boats glide smoothly,
Their rattle heard as soft hum.
Horse shoe moon grows pale.
The gray sky is turning ochre.
Poetry By The Sea 