Tangled fingers

Beach toes, water hands and foam cups,

how fishes slip between solar oil

I know the dipping of the dunes

and the grass growing on their peaks

tangled fingers, long knives and sea crests

waves snapping in the winds

the sides of the water absorb

who will walk the jetty’s

the sea, the sea

the gulls calling the fish together

horizon cut by sailing vessels

throw a leg to the beachcomber

reveal the white whale bodies

where the sun will flood in the ground

and heaven melts with the blue sky

in the glow of wooden staves

there where the catch

counts the fishermen.

© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere

21/09/2014