Category: Trail Markers

RELICS, IN TIME

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

1

along the edge
where river after river, cove and forking
confuse and disguise without end
each minaret has a name, often two

a badge
capped by a dome
a green-copper half-moon
above glass and the flash
or a triangular
arrowhead pointing to Heaven

the occasional towers standing in pairs
are to be read as eleven, rather than two
in the mathematics of waves

along Cape Cod, Cape Ann, Cape Elizabeth

2

token of peril
crag and sandbar

a warning
to welcome
a warning

acknowledging most shipwrecks
occurred within sight of shore

however deceptive the calm

3

a preference for lighthouses on craggy sites
to those on lawns or hillocks

still all stand

arrayed as white prayer flags along the coast
these relics, in time

all fall away

as we journey

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.

ROUNDED WITH LIGHT

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

rounded stones of the shoreline
or a garden path glisten
many navy blue or nearly straw

others speckled with indecision
speckled, within and without
what grows hard as rock on a rock

nearly black stones exposing white ridges
to the light, blue veins, like mothers
slate-blue orb cleft with white quartz

some color of cooked lobster
glow of berries
in dull eddies

of clamshell or snout of rising seal
given an eye, the face of a cod or shark
approaching with its mouth closed

another burnt
and still burning
none yet look like washed potatoes

between them, broken mussels and sand
firm in clear brine
each retaining its shape, for now

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.

BY DAY, BY NIGHT

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

1

I admire a lighthouse more than a ship
without masts, as a qualifier

anchored in some upstanding foundation

I, who have roved the continent
and no further
gaze from the shore

or out, from the water,
to peer at each obelisk
instructing the coastline

yet masts, in open sail
could make this a wash
or a wish-list

2

I look in vain for a painting or photograph
of ocean only
always some shoreline
or ships – naval battle
conflict or simply
what attempts to bridle wild space

the lighthouse, as a genre, especially
countering the fabled variations of blue

at last, O’Keeffe’s large canvas of clouds and sky
comes closest
even more than her cross by the sea

3

costly as a ship
to construct and to run

this marker
of commerce, progression, and change
made obsolete, still

a warning as welcome

faithfully alludes to danger
in homecoming

a way around obstacle
a passage through the mouth
to safe landing

as much as the other abode
sailors justly dread

4

in daylight, a solitary standing figure
a sentinel
upright numeral one

a spire, a prayer
shrine, stupa
gravestone

defiantly erect penis

by night, its repetition
insisting
“Here! I’m here!”
as much as “Beware!”
in a tally of shipwreck

once with its whale oil and great lenses
arrayed on a crystalline comb
investment in life

such magnification
casting its spark
so far

this rock, uttering its expletive
to death

pinprick of light

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodso
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.

LEVIATHAN, AS AN EMBLEM

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

1

now to see
North Atlantic
in my sphere

landlocked
till twenty-eight

that week, camping tide-to-tide
beside North Pacific

and you speak of turning to Christ?

2

who found the eagle in the desert canyon
and high mountains
before the Upper Mississippi
or Great Falls of the Potomac?

still, moose fail to inspire me
as elk did

3

whales, then
rather than moose
in contrast to elk of the Yakima Valley

this mirror of historic economy

besides, moose and whales do not leave tracks
everywhere we trek here,
unlike the elk out west

to say nothing of ticks

4

water, defining land
defining water
and the overlap

I want to know what the ocean voices
in its repetition
addressing the absent moon
or distance, even in the erasure

bank of fog
curtain of resounding
fog horn or bell

or vast silence
before

the hundred thousand variations of nor’easter
just off this point

no need to circle the planet

we have our fill of floundering
agents of change

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.

OF MASTS, SPARS, AND BROKEN YARDS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

1

in moonlight
Cape Ann, two months after the Perfect Storm
maybe three
while standing back on a broad outcropping
25 feet above the roiling and ebb

unpredictably, a wave explodes above me
from behind
washes around my feet

I could have been swept away

so step back, gingerly, if you will

2

driving a ridge, no view of shimmering expanses

between country club and great estates
sand plowed like snow
two feet deep, both sides of the state highway

mixed with kelp

3

nothing to trifle with
this fluid motion
in its hypnotic attraction

all recitative
with cymbals and snare drum

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.

AND KEY WEST

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

1

joining me as a bowsprit
on my usual whale-watch vessel
now wintering in Florida, a day trip
en route to Key West

a lonely teen evokes
my lover in college
the year before I met her before

two dolphins leap in front of us and

in his rounds, a crewman explains

“you don’t see that often, especially so far
from shore . you saw them, didn’t you?
you’re very lucky”

an omen, then, to the past

2

in town, roosters in banty yards
on back streets, warning

BEWARE
OF DOG

such a disappointing declaration
to swarming eyeballs
anticipating something more exotic
a gator, perchance, or snakepit
or open voodoo performed with hot sauce
please understand, you’re approaching Haiti

3

acknowledging this is an island of Biblical proportions
I stand outside Hemingway’s veranda
and shout prophetically

KELSEY SENDS
HER REGARDS

meaning her scorn
for required high school reading

this touch of sarcasm gleaned
teaching Sunday school
in New Hampshire

this day, when I’m my own old man of the sea,
is held in the tentacles of Genesis

4

again the Gulf waters roil
and the decision is announced
we’ll be sent back by land (one)
rather than any Paradise Lost
without moonlight
in the dark
road houses and health food
storefronts along the midnight
highway become fragments
of reggae notes, the songs of another
vanished lover, between mangrove

5

even on a subtropical bus
cockroaches climb toilet walls
mimicking addresses I’ve left

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.

TURNS, FROM THE PAGE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

1

once more, flipping a month, a year
another mountain, loon, lighthouse, tulip

markers of days and flowing

history or future encoded

as numerals, this imprecise bank ledger
with moon phases

occasionally with a comfort of knowing I’ve been there
or desire to go
or recollection of encountering what’s pictured

as for next month or next year
no matter how carefree
the intended journey or dreaming
some map or guiding is essential

unless we’re simply floating
and who knows, then

2

still, the clearest water remains a mask
moving, breathing
more than land

with the preponderance of life
on land, atop
in water, below

while the intertidal zones
open to interpretation

3

each tide
a page that turns back on itself

enigmas

a reminder of holy spaces
we enter rarely, if ever

point behind point
without end

 Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.

AIRY FOOTSTEPS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

What catechist insists
they’re ivory flights
in snowy clouds? Angels exist
in every rainbow color, including scarlet
footsteps on silver ladders
where charity runs in both directions.

Scarlet, as well, fills the Seventh Day
and Seventh Year, when you take rest.
Scarlet, as the sunset or sunrise
or the blood of the lamb. For that matter,

faith demands more than walking on water.

For starters, try treading on air
with or without the ladder.

To continue, click here.
Copyright 2015