Sunday in Venice

flotsam cover nookECWe walked toward the ocean.
“No hippies for Papi?”
“I hate those motherfuckers.”
“Same here.”
We stood at the edge of the dry sand. The water was from everywhere, from places and times unknown to God and Darwin. All the beauty the sea holds hidden, the oldest of things beneath the fear of its depth, the mystery of life tucked safely away in the catacombs of her body, in the hearts and thoughts of whales. The sea floor more naked than the Moon or Mars, more untouched by mankind’s infant comprehension than either. The answer to everything waited in the recesses of her trenches, in the paradise of her undiscovered countries, a land beyond the throes of Shakespeare’s capture of death, beyond theory and faith. We stood and watched the ocean while the Sun moved down. The frost of a wave rolled up and clawed our feet while a gull bit through the surface and came up empty.

Advertisements

About Jeff Stewart

Click the About tab on this page.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s