I THOUGHT AT FIRST IT WAS A STACK
I thought at first it was a stack
a bather typical of limestone coasts
forced up out of the lovely sea.
I slowly drew nearer
what I had thought a mangled stone pillar.
It turned its head like an owl.
With twin eyes we looked at each other.
He took over my impulse to flee from danger
and hurried behind the limestone headland.
I tried out his ruse
of letting myself become stone
and only listen,
only listen to the lovely sea.
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