Yin-Yang Fish (A Poem by Santi Tafarella)

 

The highest cloud

blocking the sun

 

moved

 

and the clouds below it,

and the boat sails,

 

and the capping

waves and gulls

 

broke

 

into brilliant

white

 

even as you,

barefoot

 

on the beach,

felt something

 

scaled and round

beneath your feet

 

and, yes, still soft. 

 

Sobered by Camus,

you stepped 

 

back, and

yielded

 

the grounds,

and would

 

not look

 

down, but took

your coffee

 

black