Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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Peeling open that inner emptiness
to fling it flying, that awful gentleness
of absent stirrings, to escape, to run
with open sail some charted line set
by the heartís compass, its true north
at last cutting a wake through deep
marine blue, porpoise and pilot whale
running ahead to some sonic destiny
in their voices printing blustery spray
against anticipation of a new horizon.

©Jan G. Otterstrom F. Sept. 23, 2011 Costa Rica