photography

In The Meniscus

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In the meniscus
The whole reflected world.

Even in the shine
Of the pebbles,
Glossed wet,
There are mirrors
Two fold:

In the painted light
And in the seeing.

*

And In the sheen
Of the sea’s damp hold

Stones gleam transformed.
Surfaces everywhere

Like shields,
Like barriers
To hold the selves
Of things,
Make them impervious
And themselves
Entirely.

Stones are whole
Behind their skin,
Behind the thin film
And that,
Reflected on its surface.

And the sea too
Is deep
Below it’s meniscus.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

From Blueness

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Sea born rhythms
Arrive in blueness pulse
After blueness pulse,
And where the shallows
Show in pale shoals
And the globes of stones
Glow egg-like and shimmering,
The waves rise troubled
And breathe the air
To the new azure
Of their turbulent lungs,
Curling and introvert
In their wet work
Until the almost perfect
Curve of the rolling surf
Slips from the form and balance
Of its clothes
And seeks abandon
In bubble
And white water surge:
All its energy fragmented
And absorbed
In the froth and melee
Of interface.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Mottisfont Brown Trout

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

Lazy in the shallow stream,
Silken bellies tickling
The golden gravel.
Heads toward clarity
And clean new
Flush of gills,
Absorbent and capturing.
With but a gentle pulse
To keep stillness,
The shoal mimics
The sinusoidal weed,
In greens scribing wellings
And turbulence
Fingering the sinuous flow:
And leisurely,
They face forever
And the sweet taste
Of always coming,
Always there,
Always flowing,
Always there,
And the tranquil
Cool beginnings
In every moment.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.