The piece of art I’ve chosen is
“If Once You Have Slept On An Island”
- Jamie Wyeth
Foghorn tells me in early morning hours
I am still here. Its heavy resonance
warns sailors
I sleep here.
I sleep here.
If once you have slept on an island,
the sound of the water beating
the shore makes percussion with
the ceiling fan that
thrums the air, the tinkle of chain
hitting dull light bulb is not unlike
pebbles awash in erosion,
peeling layers of the earth,
one
per every ten thousand years.
Cicadas and other
small
green species,
rubbing legs together or
mating, all through the night.
Wind passing through fronds and branches, boughs and limbs,
singing, moaning, keening.
Sleeping on an island is trapped
like on a boat that
does not move. Every sound reminds me
I am here.
I sleep here.
I wake here.
If the wind blows
over this island, I must cling to it or
perish in an uncaring sea.
...................
Thanks for reading
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