You think you can love
almost everywhere-
especially on the crude
wooden boat behind you
that never forgets.
Sometimes purple
mists over the waves,
invisible. Your hands
catch in an hourglass
that shatters
before it hits the ground.
What does it mean
To be invisible
in some lonely place
with busy nature
freaks saluting leaves?
It makes you think
Why
You came here.
To get away from
you or from that boat
that carries filthy nocturnal
thoughts, hushed,
to an island-
Where two ravens pick at the back
of a bloody scarecrow.
MARINA GIPPS
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-hang-this-picture-on-my-wall-to-remind-me-of-everything/
