James Bertolino, “Waves Again”
What has not been said
about ocean waves?
That they resemble white
chicken feathers in the wind?
Or cream cheese icing on a carrot cake
after you’ve dragged greedy fingers
Waves have a sense of timing, which they
often violate. Waves are not always comforting
for new lovers, and can represent grave
disharmony to the old.
Ocean waves are like poets
whose tidal changes always make noise.
Waves can be a soporific
for those who would rather be awake.
Waves are predictable, despite the wobble
and thrash of their arrival. They are always
coming in, even when the water’s
going out. Or am I wrong
James Bertolino is the author of ten volumes and fifteen chapbooks of poetry. His work has appeared in hundreds of magazines, including Ploughshares, Poetry, Indiana Review, Florida Quarterly, Paris Review, and Crab Creek Review. His most recent book is Finding Water, Holding Stone (2009, Cherry Grove Collections).