So Nicely Timed Were Certain Wave Summit Poems

Sleepless, slow and quick
Silent and composing the writing begins
A sort of song, waves on the wick
Of a lifetime of waiting
To write, flowers that split
Afternoons into sections of beauty
Words that snake, beneath time
Sleepless, quiet and ready to strike
The vocabulary buried for a lifetime
A sort of fate to write as a poem
That invents itself and never ends
A lullaby of boulevards chosen
From the years of student-poverty.