Still Water Prose Poems
Copyright @ 1989 by Arthur Garfunkel
Used by persmission of Author - All Rights Reserved
Why does it do this wonderful thing to me?
Would it not be the same if I sat on the end
of my own woven carpet of boundless blue dimension -
undulate, and empty of intrusion?
And if a silk ripple stole me
and slid me stilly,
slowly from hem to hem - then
Would I not feel them?
Atlantic OceanJuly 1984