On Being Here
Cool tides in the arctic season will often
bring new dialects from foreign borders near.
The morning’s deep surge offers bits and
bobs—fond musings with bright candour,
not unlike buoyant desires of the odd or
the curious in their strange and crass logic.
To gorge on brisk vapours that hang in bored
suspense along a stoic and brittle coastline,
mindful of ticking clocks & a moon that gloats
by night & cowers behind the horizon by day.
It’s not a stretch to call a stubborn surf
on a timeless shore a doting campfire.
©️Orion Foote, 2022
Visions of Orion Poetry 