On dry land
The dazzling schools of fish are gone,
so too the intricate walls of coral:
silent serene blue depths
of tropical aqua marine flicker and fade
like an old TV screen.
What would it be like, this unconscious
journey across a plain, one without any
ending?
Blades of grass forever moving
in the wind delivering me
again into something natural yet
unreal?
Another day becomes a week,
a month, a decade, a year.
Things fall apart and then
back together again. No repair.
The foliage contracts, expands.
It's time to start life on dry land.
so too the intricate walls of coral:
silent serene blue depths
of tropical aqua marine flicker and fade
like an old TV screen.
What would it be like, this unconscious
journey across a plain, one without any
ending?
Blades of grass forever moving
in the wind delivering me
again into something natural yet
unreal?
Another day becomes a week,
a month, a decade, a year.
Things fall apart and then
back together again. No repair.
The foliage contracts, expands.
It's time to start life on dry land.
D. H. Jenkins’s plays have been staged in California, Arizona, Australia, and Japan. His poems have appeared in The Tiger Moth Review and Jerry Jazz Musician and forthcoming in The Global South EcoArts issue. For many years he was a professor of English, Writing, and Speech with the University of Maryland Asian Division.