i
Over a deep jade shelf, seawater curls
smooth lathery lips. Shingle and shells
tucked under the breach, it arrives
edges closer, curious as a new calf
trembling and torn between hoof
and scent of salty hands
or comes storming, a snot-nosed bull
cold rage of Verdigris, vengeful
tossed by the last wave's faena*
ii
she sees heaving waters gape in places
salt air and solids embrace
breaking the mould as Sea Form
outermost inwards, she, The Arranger
pulls on a paradox, a doppelgänger
foaming fluid, settled metal
- a series of final passes leading to the kill made by the matador
For Open Link Night @dVerse where anything goes and here some lines for Barbara Hepworth’s: “Sea Form” of which she made several sculptures
PoetryPix 