Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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At water’s edge, stillness interrupted
imperceptibly, vast plane to a thin horizon
penciled straight, great billows of cloud
fill enormous spaces, moving squalls
buffeting the distance with warm rain
lapping wetness gulps, pops in pockets
of rock, a crystal sea of muffled chimes
with each gentle in and out, sounding
faintly, Lydian breeze lulling my tympanum
from a deeper transparency, green aquamarine
broken by aquiline reefs, benthic angles
serrated by tides below the undulant surface
while valiant mollusk and snails cling
to the jagged buttress, Island Nation.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
    August 22, 2010