I ambled along Jamaica Bay <br />out towards Plum Beach and <br />stared at the waves <br />flashing in and flushing out <br />bright waves and dark waves <br />here and in Coney Island. <br />the wind fondled my face <br />as it pumped through branches and <br />fluttered wings of birds and <br />flicked far grains of sand <br />instantaneously replaced <br />next to the unbounded ocean <br />filled with measureless life— <br />plankton tumbling <br />into vast blue whale bellies <br />shark’s blood steaming <br />microscopic flotsam <br />swept into organic tissue— <br />a billion billion <br />moments of existence <br />devouring and <br />being devoured. <br />I drifted to a small cedar bush <br />picked an emerald berry <br />crushed it between my fingers and <br />this bipedal flesh <br />imagined immortality <br />in this very life yet <br />on the waters of Jamaica Bay <br />myriad coffins <br />floated by <br />their ceaseless transformation <br />free <br />of mortal desire.<br /><br />Charles Chaim Wax<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-brooklyn-waters/
