Explaining oceans to a blind stranger
Jeff Calhoun
for Jen Gresham
This is his first time near coastal waters.
He cannot visualize the waves,
but his ears know they are gently rolling.
His form cannot avoid the spray of saltwater,
but he can feel the soft touch of brine,
count goosebumps like Braille,
embrace the calm chill of seabreeze.
My feline form brushes against his legs
and I explain how a beam of moonlight
dances slowly and streaks the ocean
like spilt milk. He nods and my purr
echoes the ocean trumpeting its tropical solo
against pinches of still-warm sand.
I leave to bat at crabs with my paws,
but he stays all night, his breath
toying with the seasmoke that rises and rises.
Jeff Calhoun is a Michigan poet who recently received Best of the Net and Pushcart nominations for poems published in 2007. His writing credits include Mannequin Envy, Lily, Softblow, Blood Orange Review, Stirring and Triplopia.