Some Places So High
that ships in the sea
are like tiny white water birds
dwarfed by carven cliffs.
I should have liked
to bring you here
to clamber up
through brave patches of mossy grass
creviced in red rock
to watch our great shadows
and to laugh at the ships
dreaming of gold and spices.
I could have talked to you
about what seeing is like, from up here
converting colours into hard gems of words
until all the bloom of this red and blue world
burst in upon the graves behind your eyes –
slate pink horizon
dusted in distant shores and deepening
in the shadowed turquoise of these our waters
rust bright rocks stacked to rival Babel
rising to mighty arches –
I could have taught you the magic of the world
through the kiss of sea breezes
shivering so high above the surf
through the feel of stone
warmed in lingering sunlight
through the sound of baby waves
flirting with slippery crab-infested roots of the cliff
and laughing, as all the world laughs,
at the little white birds on the sea.
Perhaps, if you had come to visit,
if I had found a way
to lead you to the edge and paint the shades
of ocean in your brain –
perhaps you would not have jumped.
Originally from Texas, Shannon Lise spent twelve years in the Middle East and currently lives in Québec. Her first poetry collection is underway and recent work has appeared in or is forthcoming from Sunlight Press, Ink in Thirds, Eunoia Review and Red Eft Review. She also writes epic fantasy realism (Keeper of Nimrah, 2014).
The Ekphrastic Review
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