Mansion Beach
1
I count the rays of the jellyfish:
twelve in this one, like a clock to tell time by,
thirteen in the next, time gone awry.
A great wind brought them in, left them here
to die, indifferent time measured by whirling moon
and sun, by tides in perpetual fall and rise.
Englobed, transparent, they litter the beach,
creatureless creatures deprived of speech
who spawn more like themselves before they die.
I peer into each and see a faceless
red center, red spokes like a star.
They are, and are not, like what we are.