Conch Poem by William F Dougherty
Conch
Churning in a spiral shell,
a monotone of waves
rolls from a mouth of opal
into memory’s caves
as it huskily repeats
in a low, convulsive breath
a distant, constant beat
gritty as truth.
Out of the beached whorl’s
salmon-tinted throat
and glossy mother-of-pearl
thrums a univocal note,
a steady systole,
as if the shell had found
in the early, hearsay sea
inaugural, salted sound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 9:49:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
