Salt Ripple

Salt Ripple

One man, one ashtray
the old man with beads paints alone.
The storm passes over
Moon Child is always with him.

Mermaid's handbag
I find my cure
near the salt water medicine.
Sanpipers dance
I watch the moves
way off Broadway.

Far away now
from the madness of erotic politics
I think I should never return.

Remain here
become pure again
among the thunderstorms and greensnakes.

The old man with beads
sings baritone in the shower.
The storms have passed over
leaving sadness, uncertainty and hope.

Ancient energy here
the moon shows up in late afternoon.
She's imitating a cloud.
Foamy egg moon we hatched from
our ancient dust and rock birth sack.

-Will Dockery (1997)