I’m here to fetch things that float up,
Devoted to the murk of ocean,
No hint whatever it is
A few feet below,
Where iridescence waves
Before vanishing.
I come to this dock
Each morning
And imagine
A flounder, the wise seer,
Gazing from his abyss
Through tricks of light
At the stranger craning his neck
In a separate heaven.
Alex Richardson teaches creative writing, literature, and film at Limestone University. His poems have appeared in over 50 magazines, journals, and anthologies. His first collection, Porch Night on Walnut Street, was published by Plainview Press.