Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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As a boy searching tide pools and grottos
sea anemones and crabs, littoral life
squeezed into cracks, swish of each wave’s
surge, doubling cascades at the edge
halogen scent, all wet to the toes, cold
on a warm summer day, chimeric temporality
in the mind, fifty five years ago.
An iguana spread on a towel over hot sand
to dry, salt in the ears, skin tanned
baked pelagic creatures, lizard of the sea
become thought’s miss fortune, not knowing
where to begin, we are deranged, not dwelling
here or there, on shore or in the ocean
as going nowhere, yet curious of everything
not stopping at the beach or swimming elsewhere
proximity of the past as distant as the present
maybe a Renaissance amphibian at last.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. 7/09/2013