4 February 2018

The sea seemed unable
to decide
whether to flow like the Andante
of Brahm’s Piano Conceto No. 2,
or Chopin’s Balade No. 1.
A rower would seem
to be more amenable
to rowing in keeping
with the Andante,
the Ballade’s movement,
at times, a frenzy
of keys, waves shattering
against the teeth of rocks
making up the mouth of the shore,
incisorlike rocks that would bite,
to splinters, a scull.  The sea
never did decide
one over the other.
Calm flowed into frenzy.
Frenzy devoured the calm,
the seam where they met
a constant frothing,
a rapids beyond rowing.

Philip Kuepper
(14 January 2018)