From Hundreds

Strung up
in the hard Djerban sun,
I chose you, my very fine
sea sponge.

Tiny grains of reef
still netted
in your feet,
I can tell,
like a shore-blown tree,
you grew
with the flow of the sea.

Even now, years later,
here in the shower,
you still smell oceany.

One thought on “From Hundreds”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.