Saturday, October 29, 2011

The Crinoid

In the light that filters down
below the surface,
I refuse to move
even one feathery arm.

I peer at you on the opposite ledge,
resting until dark-
you disguised as flames of orange,
and I, as a brilliant bush of gold.

Do I crave your flamboyant feathers?
Or, the fact that you,
like me, hide from those
who do not understand?

Clinging to other coral,
you wait for the night.
Then moving together on sticky legs,
we feed, like grazing animals,
side by side.

With my fern-like arms
I bring you close
until, in our passion,
we release our essence on the tide.