Sand sifts from the water and settles,
water leaches from sand and recedes.
Between the two, a beach, a barrier,
a demilitarization zone —
as they say, good fences, good neighbors?
Don’t ask, don’t tell. S/he’s A-C-D-C.
Born on the wrong side of the train tracks.
“Render unto Caesar” and all that.
Can we jazz it up? Now there’s a thought,
jazz being yet another fusion
of musics from different continents
fermenting and frothing in a bright
zesty spicy renaissance of hot
and cold. The weather swings back and forth,
full of storms that ache with heat, then sheet
down rain, slog through sad clouds, lift with winds.
Squall line, dry line, shearline, occluded …
It is always right at the edges
where things get most exciting. Goosebumps!
Just give me shivers! Maybe that’s why
God pulled the waters from the dry land,
so we could see the differences,
the joints and the joinings and the joy,
the way two crossbars fit together
like they were made to go in different
directions, but somehow together.