This sea is covered with adolescents
learning to walk on waves, upright,
sometimes resting their arms on the currents,
sometimes gripping a stiff beam of sunlight.
I lie on the broad beach, an angled shape, cut perfectly,
and I ponder them like travelers landing.
An infinite fleet of yawls. I wait to see
a false step, or at least a grounding
up to knee in the diaphanous swell
beneath their measured progress, sounding.
But they are slim and calm – as well,
they’ve learned to walk on waves – and standing.
(Nichita Stanescu)
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Based on Topics: Infinity Poems, Progress PoemsBased on Keywords: angled, diaphanous, adolescents, yawls