tempest/

©2021 Michael Raven

standing on 
the shores 
sea-change
salt wind fingers
my hair
& the pull of
all nine isles
touching other worlds
scattered before me
like sand on 
rippled glass, so
quiet
before
the
storm

Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made,
Those are pearls that were his eyes,
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change,
into something rich and strange,
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell,
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell

William Shakespeare, The Tempest

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