little green sea
worldly things are sad
i know. it is not for you
to save the clouds from
their enslavement from the moon -
they have had leave from
centuries to do so, since
before you were born.

little green sea
trembling in the muddied
lamplight, fearful of cicadas
how i want to, with my
thin hands, speak to you
i tilted three or four times
in the night, wanting to cast
a secret lure.

little green sea
so old and so young. there is
a sensible madness that
language anchors for us.
let it take us to the beginning
naked and miraculous.