ocean blue

Blue Ocean

When I awoke it was Sunday morning and the seashore
had disappeared, lie in the grass by a stream that has its
nascent where winter shawls cover the blue mountain.

A white owl, ogled me as tiny snakes slithered across my
belly, dived into the streams coolness, which hurt since it
was only two feet deep.

Bleeding from a head wound, but having got rid of
the serpents, I hung my clothes to dry on an oak's
inviting branch.

Sat on a boulder as morning sun warmed my nudeness,
when the maid who milks morning dew walked by,
she paused and asked: " Are you a satyr?'

“No dear, I'm a sailor rejected by the sea". She gave me
roses' dew to drink, intoxicated I embraced her ephemeral
body and was free of the ocean's pull.