Outer Banks

Where is the eye
supposed to land?
Bottlenose dolphins
bodysurf Corolla.
Cumulus on cloud.
The filament of green
suspended in a seascape
of incalculable power
somewhere coming.
Fueled and packed
for our evacuation,
we stay with the weather,
stand before the blurring
of the sea and sky, languid
in the weighted atmosphere.
We feel we’re letting go.
Forgetting everything.
It’s quiet.
Even the enormous waves
are quiet.

RICK MULLIN

Rick Mullin is a painter and writer living in northern New Jersey. His poetry has appeared in various journals and anthologies, including American Arts Quarterly, The New Criterion, The Dark Horse, and Measure. His books include Soutine (Dos Madres, 2012), Sonnets from the Voyage of the Beagle (Dos Madres, 2014), and Huncke (second edition, Exot, 2021). His new collection, Grotesque Singers, was published by Dos Madres last year.