Friday Poetry: Pearl by Dale Zeretzke

This is one of my favorite poems. Whenever it is cold and sleety – pretty much all this week – I think of the oysters in their chilly mud. Do read it aloud, and slowly.

Pearl

Oysters sleeping in wrinkled white shells
on chilly mud
bottom of Samish Bay.

Owl calls up
to a tossed shawl of stars –
gets back
the long deep gaze of the night.

Owl calls up.
Oyster dreams.

Owl calls up.
Oyster dreams.

Owl calls up.
Owl calls up.
Owl calls up.

Pearl.

~ Dale Zeretzke

I found this poem in the 2001 edition of Crosscurrents, a publication of the Washington Community and Technical College Humanities Association.




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:: this post is part of the Friday Poetry roundup hosted by AmoXcalli.





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