02.05.19 Wilderness

On the shore, a woman speaks
into cliff-whirled wind:
“love is not a weakness
writhing in passion’s flame”
selkie, sheds all but sleek
silver and coal-flecked fur to
swim curiously in the foaming
roaring, waved-tossed sea
heart burning that faithful fire
that flows and yields
twisting, turning, coursing
in and out through
steady, persuasive currents
courting water-wolf orcas—
roils and builds and surges
forth to be once more
swept in cascades of a
rolling tide’s sweet, salty grip.