Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Poem for Tuesday and Discovery Beach

Watching the Sea Go
By Dana Levin

         Thirty seconds of yellow lichen.

Thirty seconds of coil and surge,
            fern and froth, thirty seconds
                         of salt, rock, fog, spray.


moving slowly to the left―

            A door in a rock through which you could see


another rock,
                       laved by the weedy tide.

            Like filming breathing―thirty seconds

of tidal drag, fingering
             the smaller stones
                          down the black beach―what color

             was that, aquamarine?
Starfish spread

                         their salmon-colored hands.


            I stood and I shot them.

I stood and I watched them
            right after I shot them: thirty seconds of smashed sea
                         while the real sea

                            thrashed and heaved―

           They were the most boring movies ever made.
I wanted

                       to mount them together and press play.


           Thirty seconds of waves colliding.


           with its open attitudes, seals
                        riding the swells, curved in a row

                        just under the water―

                                    the sea,
            over and over.
                                    Before it’s over.


Lots of small, stupid things on Monday did not go as planned, not enough to get cranky about since they're all minor or fixable -- both lunch and dinner plans postponed to different dates, friend sick, laundry washed but not folded because of a problem with a dress that had to be rewashed by hand, pictures not quite fitting in frames, things like that -- but enough to make me think I should turn in early.

High points of day included two bunnies on my walk and a cat who woke me by breathing tuna breath in my face. We watched The Soloist, in which RDJ gives a good performance and Jamie Foxx gives an exceptional performance (the screenplay's a bit uneven but I appreciated the directing, since so many movies about mental illness end up feeling over-the-top trying to portray it). Seattle's Discovery Beach:

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