Ampersand
/Karen McPherson
and, and, and... flood the seabowl, churn of milkfoam,
eggfroth, windwhip, tattering, liquid slide to suck to
pool, draw back to, crack to, whirl to sheer, to even
tide, to surfaces gloved in whitest
cream, to glisten...
but, but... but, no, listen! to the damper sand, the
jongleur’s clever hand, his amber band, his singing
monochrome, those trailing strands
of foam of track of
seaweed, syntax...
and, and, and...and it’s back and foreground, middle ground, all
back and foreground, middle ground, all
(all all all)
a glorious erasure. Until.
Agitated sanderlings. Until. Then.
Sudden birches.
Author’s Note: Once in a while on the Oregon coast the waves churn & spew with a thick, frothy seafoam that coats the boulders & driftwood white along the rocky shore. The effect is otherworldly & glorious. This poem came tumbling & singing into me, riding a tide of sand & sound.
Karen McPherson is an Oregon poet and literary translator. She is the author of Skein of Light (Airlie Press) and the chapbook Sketching Elise (Finishing Line). Her work has appeared in literary journals including Beloit Poetry Journal, Cider Press Review, Cincinnati Review, Zoland, Potomac Review, and Chicago Quarterly Review. Between 2013 and 2017, she worked as an editor in the Airlie Press poetry collective. Her website is kmcphersonpoet.com.
