BY TONI SPENCER
“Whenever I look at the ocean, I always want to talk to people, but when I’m talking to people, I always want to look at the ocean.”— Haruki Murakami
The moon lies upon the ocean—
a sleeping dragon curled about itself,
one eye half open observing the world below.
Snow falls like meteors— a shower of cold fire
doused in the black water heaving itself
Upon the shore. This moon is red as blood—
The dragon’s eye carnelian in its glow.
Bits of phosphorus twinkle on the sand.
A crab washes ashore and walks a few paces
before being swept back into the blackness again.
Farther from the shore early breaking waves
show white in the blackness and ladders
from the moonshine track back to the moon
undulating gently upon the water. The
moon on the ocean is a mysterious thing.