There’s a sadness in me
that if I were a sea
would be the sea weed,
endlessly re-fronding
like a ghost that weaves
its own winding sheet,
and in that unwinding
of deeper green
the sea wants
to weep
as if there were room
in such water
for any more
salt; as if there were room
in such salt
for any more
only maybe the unwound sadness
is itself the sea,
and me, the weed,
life being suffering, according to many,
and me, for all of it,
sprouting at odd angles, joy–
oh boy, says she/me/this
small sea.


Draft poem belatedly for Fireblossom’s prompt on Real Toads, about finding the grey in the good.  I don’t think this really fits–I did another which seemed kind of silly but maybe will post sometime.  (Thanks. Shay, for great prompt!)

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15 Comments on “Sea”

  1. Jim Says:

    I think this fits ‘sadness in me’ pretty good, K. At least my sadness. Almost all now has been washed away or over salted and is pretty well gone. Memories and a stifled sob are still around and I imagine those puddles wIll remain until I am not. It’s been forty-eight years since things got bad for a while.

  2. I have never thought of sadness in that way before. But there is a point when you see how it can grow underneath the mirror of a perfect sea. Wonderful,

  3. coalblack Says:

    Draft, my eye. This is really good.

  4. Kerry O'Connor Says:

    This has great movement with its long and short lines, like the seaweed fronds unfurling.

  5. Sherry Marr Says:

    WOW! This is wonderful…love the ghost weaving its own winding sheet……the salt and the wound….and the “me/this small sea.” A fantastic poem!

  6. hedgewitch Says:

    “ if there were room
    in such water
    for any more
    salt; as if there were room
    in such salt
    for any more

    You know i don’t often quote, karin, but this is really an element so well-combined, so well-set in the midst of the poem’s floating feel, that it really struck me as an example of something all too rare–pure poetry. Sometimes being lost at sea is better, more important for the journey than being in charge of getting there–so exhausting, especially when weakened by loss of blood. Lovely sadness, and a sweetness, as well.

    • ManicDdaily Says:

      Hey Joy, (Ha–just thinking of your name here.) Thanks for your kind comment. I am not sure about parts of the poem, but I was very pleased that it came out whole as it were, and will think about my uncertainties later! Thanks again. k.

  7. Oh, God, this is gorgeous. And the photo. Thanks.

    Greetings from London.

  8. Helen Says:

    ~ straight to my heart, your poem.

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