Image by Louise Dickinson-Brown
Past the worm reef and the coral,
the archipelago inhabited by dragons,
their sail bellied silken in a wind
sec as the sigh of a sphinx, the voyagers
move across mirrors, their eyes
touched with color - aquamarine
and amber - searching the curve of the world where islands
are transformed, become porpoises and
gulls. It is said that gold coin and amphorae
filled with remedies lie worn
by sand and shadow only, in
a cache the elders knew. It must be found. And the keel
moves through glass, etching mercury where
coral builds and anemones bloom among
transparencies of flesh and
quick scales metallic in shoals in
schools in light shaped by weed and eddies.
This is where all islands have gone. Worms
build upon bullion, conchs measure amhorae.
The voyagers look to where
a world curves into dolphins,
the wing and the cry of terns.
From an unpublished manuscript, A Book of Beasts, poems by Lewis Turco, illustrations by Louise Dickinson-Brown; the poems may be found in Fearful Pleasures: The Complete Poems of Lewis Turco 1959-2007, Scottsdale, AZ: www.StarCloudPress.com, 2007. ISBN 978-1-932842-19-7, cloth; ISBN 978-1-932842-20-3, paper. Also available in a Kindle edition.