.. seeing nothing
yet mapping a lane in the brine
where Oedipus or Lear
might walk as though they saw:
..
For: nothing has been created.
Nothing. Nothing. All is yet to come.
The cloud that whirls in the Lighthouse's
vector confirms
the superstitious dream of Adam and the
geography of danger,
the staggering keel in the shipwreck,
the gull's wing bloodying glass.
The ocean spins emptily. The Lighthouse
counts three hundred
and sixty degrees; and the salt
comedy of unknowing begins.
Ben Belitt
The Double Witness
Poems: 1970-1976
Southeast Lighthouse
[fragment]
Princeton University Press, 1977©
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