July Poem 21: God’s Eye

Ridding the winds of Hurricane Matthew.

A felt vibration of wind, in a word.

Ephemeral slight of meaningless wind.

Up from the rock strewn friction chips signaled

Itself relax. Those who escaped the rock

Were lost. For my part, I swam. On that rock,

The stone music led and had envisioned

The deep, the stone. This was the cornerstone

If the cornerstone happened. The white line

In the water, to clean his catch on man,

God’s eyes watered the dew point like a ghost,

Took water, and rose up the stately streets

Between the high wave that rose up in him

In the blowing in off the lapping waves.

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