Oceanus


by Loren Booda

Portaged within us, saline sea
And algal cells abundantly
Passing through the generations
Fathered plants at first, then nations;
Atlantis is, for those who dare,
Existant in the realm of Aire.

The ploughman's shirt is flecked with sweat
Like sea sown fron the fisher's net
Sailing into landlocked port
He never left his wat'ry fort.

But even temples fall at last
Resurrecting creatures past;
We weep to think the bounteous wave
That bore all life shall be our grave.

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