Where’s Walden III

Can we wiggle
Can we trickle
Can we drip, drop, dribble?
Can we gurgle
If we bubble
If we gushle, rush, rush?
Can we get there?
Can we get there?

Can we get where?

Whoosh the sea!

chuckling bubbles blossom
space being filled up
by gushing wetness
sturdy grumbling cobbles
restrict the passage of the material
that moistens our skin

Have you seen it?
Have you seen it?

Have we seen what?

Why, the sea!

Crashing waves haven’t crashed
Tremendous turmoil
Has not been spun
Foam has not been stirred
For this small creek only
An imaginary ocean

or the ocean?
or the mer?
with the moon hanging low
over the lapping little waves
of the lagoon?

Only an imaginary ocean