14 May 2010

{via flickr}

On the tidal mud, just before sunset,
dozens of starfishes
were creeping. It was
as though the mud were a sky
and enormous, imperfect stars
moved across it as slowly
as the actual stars cross heaven.
All at once they stopped,
and, as if they had simply
increased their receptivity
to gravity, they sank down
into the mud, faded down
into it and lay still, and by the time
pink of sunset broke across them
they were as invisible
as the true stars at daybreak.

–Galway Kinnell

Notify of

Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
May 26, 2010 8:05 pm

I love this poem! Thanks for posting. :)

June 16, 2010 7:42 pm

A new favorite poem! Beautiful imagery