Monday, March 24, 2014

Two Sketches from a Bungalow by the Sea

Koh Rong

From a cabin just west of paradise,
Where wine flows free, liquor freer,
And smoke, it clouds the air.
O how peaceful, how sensuous
The women dance their drunken way.
Romantic and astute, the conversation slurs.
The cocks the crows, the birds they cheep
Among the eucalyptus and the palm.
The fishing boats, they grind and putter.
This perfect native life, this retouched paradise.

Interlude in a Breaking Wave

First light and the grumble and slosh of the waves
Washing the sands with the breaking of days.
Some remaining footprints and some bleached bones
Of moments that roared, their echoes mumble.

Each wave changes the quality of light.
A memory brightens;
Other ones turn darker, or fainter
In this the first light in the rumble of surf,
In the tumbling selves
As night washes back into sea.

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