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Limestone smacked by the sea

And criss crossed by holes

The sea rises up in like a question

I float in the water and gaze into

The Blight of Eleuthera

 

Thinking of the endless waves and the sharks

That slip their way in from the deep Atlantic

And the red sand all across from Africa

There’s nothing to stop its ocean-wide thought

 

And the bats that flew away at the sound of me

At the mouth of that cave

The second day here

I went in with the Austrians and we threw that rock

That only hit the bottom after sixty seconds

We gazed down the dark crevasse after it

And thought about following that stream to its end

But my shoes had holes in it and I left

 

And today I float in the sea water

And think about the holes and myself

Small here

A hole, most likely, in something

Some sort of limestone,

Some kind of African sand

 

And I breathe out

—answered the waves