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New Poems

The Old Sea

In comes the sea and in comes the sky
In come the wishes and in come the waves
In come the people from beaten shores

Slow bend the wills of tempting rocks
Slow beat the hearts of cycled fogs
Slow blow the brains of empty docks

Here come the hordes of barbarian blue
Here sink the teeth of memories of you
Here fights the breath of the plangent steppes

There steals the light of bursting Gods
There marches time on creaking legs
There drinks the lip of mother tongues

Where arcs the tide of ancient gills
Where snaps the life of a myriad men
Where swim the pens of poets shoals

© David Incoll 2001

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Copyright by David Incoll 2001