The Locket (for Morts)

The Locket

I found it between the rocks,
a flash
in the dimple of beach’s smirk;
Vishnu blue pool,
by the roar
of the rising tide
and hissing sand.

Crab did its sidestep shuffle;
my hand
just another specimen under
nature’s microscope
an ashen-white squid
of a different kind.

A locket of Celtic design;
a stone,
a lighter shade of Royal purple
in the middle
of intricate hearts,
by the rusted veins
of modern history.

Breaking a sliver of seaweed as seal,
the glass cover
crumbled into its original form;
flaking away:
at the attendance
of the century.

An indiscernible engraving
on the back:
the name of the woman in the picture,
or the black Doberman
by her side?

How was I
supposed to know
not to put it on?

words by Ramon Ramirez

2 thoughts on “The Locket (for Morts)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s