Old Ocean

Old Ocean They break up big boulders, near the houses where I live, what I see used to be the bottom of an old ocean. The stones break easily, pieces glitter as crystal in the sun. I pick up a splinter, lick it and can taste the cool, clear sea. My inner ear picks up the sea’s ripples on the strand, but also, the contented hum of an ocean alone. I also hear its ire as waves upon waves, futilely, crashes on to jagged cliffs of perpetuity. Overcome by awe I’ve tasted eternity, It’s salty; and if you get too obsessed about it, can give you fatally high blood pressure.