After long winter languor, I again smelled the sea.

It is a pleasure: unstale air
Piercing abdomen
Making me aware
Once more
Of half-dead senses
Stagnated in dusty books.

I understand day
In all fullness:
How the wind can echo sunlight,
And create the crisp blueness of sky.
It is a revelation, how clear things appear,
Gray-hard across the harbor,
Moving toward me on salted gusts.

Sharp – pointed – sensation equals
New definition (revealing deep natures, revealing relations):
Caw of gulls
Horizon on sky
Air on flesh
Salt against air
Cold birth against armchairs (that swallow winter people in their warmth).

I stand upon wharves
Cradle ropes in white arms
Breathing.

After long winter languor, I again smelled the sea.