When she rose from the sea
she was not so tall at first:
a playground fountain
the spout of a whale,
then a sky-climbing wall
of shimmering saltwater.
Sonambulistic Titaness,
roused by the sudden jerk of
the dreaming Vulcan
who shared her seabed
Stirred but not awakened
in her giantess’ slumber,
she rose, gathering the fishing boats–
thorns on her foamy tresses–
the kelp beds, the nurse sharks,
the sea bathers and shipwrecks–
bejeweling her turquoise robes
At her full height, she moved quietly–
a barefooted monolith
advancing over the wrinkled sands
towards the cowering land
And, at the moment, the
sleepwalker opened her eyes,
she threw her great, blue cape
behind her like a bullfighter
and retreated, dragging pieces
of the mountains, the reactors,
the harbors, the cities and trees
from the whitewashed day
The helpless thousands,
she carried home like small
souveniers of a strange dream:
tiny shells, a handful of sand
lost in the pockets of an old coat
Vanishing into the vast gyre,
a gaping mouth in the ocean,
now an oddly spinning anomaly,
now a small, thoughtless splash
where a fisherman tossed a bone.
