Kersten Christianson

“Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky.
Conscious breathing is my anchor.”
-Thích Nh?t H?nh

Your breakwater
body shelters
against surf,
cradles me
in the shallows –
shuffle of sand and sea,
I know your grace.

You rest
in barnacled skin,
your searching eye
considers mine;
breath, tapered –
no words.

Consider one
fluked dive
into the basin
of sky, into
the bright path
of wedge bird
moon.