Stephen Fuller *** Poetry, Essays

A Sonnet of Sorts for the Ocean Floor, a poem by Stephen

Beside rock thrust up from an ocean floor,

Time measured beyond fathoms we had marked,

The sea stripped from its basin, rests naked.

Deadorned by certain weeds set adrift.

Deinhabited by moray. We have

But one thing left: marvel. This is what is.

I am now barren. She, the ocean says:

See my scars. See my hidden expanses.

See my seeking to be filled by something

Beyond this heat, beyond these rocks: a tale.

Now! Teller, do so! Into the canyon

Dive as when you sought your first breath womb-free.

Your heart ready, at last, to carve a life

Out of unmarked rocks. Tell us your story.

%d bloggers like this: