A poem for Wednesday

The sea is in my dreams these days. I woke on Sunday, dreaming of the whoosh of a gentle tide and rain and thought, I am home! But it was just my air conditioner and immediately I was hot and bothered and longing for a salt sea breeze. But the sea haunts me in other ways too, more ineffably than a craving for a familiar scene. I long for it because it softens my edges when I need soothing. This is just an excerpt from the Corsons Inlet by A. R. Ammons. Read the full poem here.

Corsons Inlet

I went for a walk over the dunes again this morning
to the sea,
then turned right along
   the surf
                         rounded a naked headland
                         and returned

   along the inlet shore:

it was muggy sunny, the wind from the sea steady and high,   
crisp in the running sand,
       some breakthroughs of sun
   but after a bit

continuous overcast:

the walk liberating, I was released from forms,   
from the perpendiculars,
      straight lines, blocks, boxes, binds
of thought
into the hues, shadings, rises, flowing bends and blends   
               of sight:

                         I allow myself eddies of meaning:   
yield to a direction of significance
like a stream through the geography of my work:   
   you can find
in my sayings
                         swerves of action
                         like the inlet’s cutting edge:
               there are dunes of motion,
organizations of grass, white sandy paths of remembrance   
in the overall wandering of mirroring mind:
but Overall is beyond me: is the sum of these events
I cannot draw, the ledger I cannot keep, the accounting
beyond the account:

in nature there are few sharp lines
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