Amy Cuneo

When Once I Held the Sea

Inside I'm all a liquid,
a lapping and a listless sea,
and if you are to listen near
I'll wager this is what you'll likely hear:

a Howling wind, a Haunted breeze, a Dark in the noon
late quivering breeze,
a stirring deep, a changeful streak, enough to turn
you ear from me.

You see, inside I'm all a liquid,
an oft disturbed keep,
and the way that your eyes pierce
I'll not have sides to hold,
when the sea is drained to the deep.
And then like the mass I'll survive,
in the gasping half shallows of life,
where we share the common pool of remains
that once like the world held the sea.