By Julie Ellinger Hunt

 

What is an ocean

but the depth in which

the folds of life can unfold—

Unfurl like baby leaves

of newborn flowers in Spring.

 

What is an ocean

but the home of tides

that shift what is contained,

innards flowing from one

end to another.

 

What, my darling, is

an ocean when an ocean

is what we desperately

need, the element to

separate, come between,

 

distance us, flush not

just the water out but

the realistic expectations

until fantasy is all we have,

and we are left

 

floating down our hometown

river with a world of words

to pacify our needs

that would be better met

together.

 

_________________

Julie Ellinger Hunt resides in Northern New Jersey with her two lunatic sons and part-alien husband. Her two full collections of poetry, “In New Jersey” and “Ever Changing” make for excellent trivets. Read more about Julie at jthunt.wordpress.com

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Posted by Mel. View all posts by Mel
Saturday, October 22nd, 2011 1:42 am
Categories: Current: 5.4, Poetry