> Will Dockery wrote:
> Salt Ripple.
>
> One man, one ashtray,
> the old man with beads paints alone.
> The storm passes over,
> Moon Child is always with him.
>
> Mermaid's handbag, I find my cure,
> near the salt water medicine.
> Sanpipers dance, I watch the moves,
> way off Broadway.
>
> Far away now,
> from the madness of erotic politics,
> I think I should never return.
> remain here, become pure again
> among the thunderstorms and greensnakes.
>
> The old man with beads
> sings baritone in the shower.
> The storms have passed over,
> leaving sadness, uncertainty and hope.
>
> Ancient energy here...
> the moon shows up in late afternoon.
> She's imitating a cloud.
> Foamy egg moon we hatched from,
> our ancient dust and rock birth sack.
>
> -Will Dockery (c)2003

Salt Ripple.

One man, one ashtray,
the old man with beads paints alone.
The storm passes over,
Moon Child is always with him.

Mermaid's handbag, I find my cure,
near the salt water medicine.
Sandpipers dance, I watch the moves,
way off Broadway.

Far away now,
from the madness of erotic politics,
I think I should never return.
remain here, become pure again
among the thunderstorms and greensnakes.

The old man with beads
sings baritone in the shower.
The storms have passed over,
leaving sadness, uncertainty and hope.

Ancient energy here...
the moon shows up in late afternoon.
She's imitating a cloud.
Foamy egg moon we hatched from,
our ancient dust and rock birth sack.

-Will Dockery

(Reposted from the archives)

This is a response to the post seen at:
http://www.jlaforums.com/viewtopic.php?p=657844785#657844785

Will-Dockery wrote:

>

> Salt Ripple.

> One man, one ashtray,
> the old man with beads paints alone.
> The storm passes over,
> Moon Child is always with him.

> Mermaid's handbag, I find my cure,
> near the salt water medicine.
> Sandpipers dance, I watch the moves,
> way off Broadway.

> Far away now,
> from the madness of erotic politics,
> I think I should never return.
> remain here, become pure again
> among the thunderstorms and greensnakes.

> The old man with beads
> sings baritone in the shower.
> The storms have passed over,
> leaving sadness, uncertainty and hope.

> Ancient energy here...
> the moon shows up in late afternoon.
> She's imitating a cloud.
> Foamy egg moon we hatched from,
> our ancient dust and rock birth sack.

> -Will Dockery

> (Reposted from the archives)

> This is a response to the post seen at:
> http://www.jlaforums.com/viewtopic.php?p=657844785#657844785

Outstanding poem and new to me as well....!