The sea is deep

trailing foam, a trough cut

by bent, shaped boards

a master of wind

the creak of travel

masted perch, tears in my eye

--dm

v.1

9/10

Pulled across, against the grain

Simple notes planed true

are lost in the errant scratches

ringed growth that disappears

worm holes, knots and twists

out of square, plumb-less

what is the sound of wood

uncut and left to rot

words are the pathway to other people

live in silence and you live alone

--dm

v.1

9/10