Watching the Sea Go
By Dana Levin
Thirty seconds of yellow lichen.
Thirty seconds of coil and surge,
fern and froth, thirty seconds
of salt, rock, fog, spray.
Clouds
moving slowly to the left—
A door in a rock through which you could see
__
another rock,
laved by the weedy tide.
Like filming breathing—thirty seconds
of tidal drag, fingering
the smaller stones
down the black beach—what color
was that, aquamarine?
Starfish spread
their salmon-colored hands.
__
I stood and I shot them.
I stood and I watched them
right after I shot them: thirty seconds of smashed sea
while the real sea
thrashed and heaved—
They were the most boring movies ever made.
I wanted
to mount them together and press Play.
__
Thirty seconds of waves colliding.
Kelp
with its open attitudes, seals
riding the swells, curved in a row
just under the water—
the sea,
over and over.
Before it's over.
Copyright Credit: Dana Levin, "Watching the Sea Go" from Banana Palace. Copyright © 2016 by Dana Levin. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press, www.coppercanyonpress.org.
Source: Banana Palace (Copper Canyon Press, 2016)