About the poet
Jan Kemp was born in Hamilton, New Zealand, in 1949. She was the sole woman anthologized in The...
This poem features in guided tours by:
Nothing reduces you to your skin like the sea - cold
plunge into reality, a tongue already salty & all that power
self-propelling you through our other element -
body loving every pummelling second as your mind slips
on the (no wonder) Madonna-blue beach wrap of the sky.
The straightest line imaginable just over the breakers,
visibly separating the two, doesn't exist.
You do. Yet, can you hold a handful of salt water
to prove it for just one moment before you go.
from Dante's Heaven (Puriri Press, 2006), copyright © Jan Kemp 2006, used by permission of the author
Sponsor this poem
Would you like to sponsor this poem? Find out how here.