F
I
R
E
ISLAND
The Milky Way
above,the milky
waves beside,
when the sand is night
the sea is galaxy.
The unseparat stars
mark a twining coast
with phosphorescent
surf
in the black sky's trough.
Perhaps we walk on black
star ash, and watch
the milks of light foam forward, swish and spill
while other watchers, out
walking in their white
great
swerve,
gather
our
low
spark,
our little Way
the dark
glitter
in
their
s
i
g
h
t
.