sea grass makes a lovely bed

BY JERI THERIAULT

you lie together 

as the wind whips 

the standing stalks    

far above your heads

that same wind scudding 

clouds you will always 

remember   as sun-

stunned.   you swallow 

grass/sky/wind/sea    

your need   so insatiable    

you leave the rest of us 

almost nothing—

a gasp bleached   

this white tangle.

after Fog Day Grass by Hannah Berta

Jeri Theriault writes poems and reviews. She has been involved with Art Word, the annual ekphrastic event at the Portland Museum of Art, since its inception. Jeri lives in South Portland with her husband, the composer, Philip Carlsen.