without oceans

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Without Oceans Author(s): Wendy Bishop Source: The Iowa Review, Vol. 32, No. 2 (Fall, 2002), p. 105 Published by: University of Iowa Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20155125 . Accessed: 12/06/2014 23:07 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp . JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. . University of Iowa is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to The Iowa Review. http://www.jstor.org This content downloaded from 91.229.229.96 on Thu, 12 Jun 2014 23:07:01 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

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Without OceansAuthor(s): Wendy BishopSource: The Iowa Review, Vol. 32, No. 2 (Fall, 2002), p. 105Published by: University of IowaStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20155125 .

Accessed: 12/06/2014 23:07

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

University of Iowa is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to The Iowa Review.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 91.229.229.96 on Thu, 12 Jun 2014 23:07:01 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Without Oceans

for M.S.

I am astonished, at first, how anyone can

have lived long yet not traveled to its lengths, measured those rough antic swells, the rock cliffs and running

tides, moon's messages: ebb, flood, neap. Madness,

really, to imagine growing old without oceans, overcome

by dryness, hand held to eyes, eyeing the horizon,

like Odysseus walking dryly inland to plant his oar. I imagine that the echoes of limitless waters haunt every ear

and then realize they must. I find ocean in canyon's frozen

waves of red rock, see piscine shadows in alkali flats, sense

seas in some people's passing looks, matching my own peaceless need for walking out, out, across the rills of old tidelands

to a chilly edge, where, alone, the crash of crosscutting waters

drowns the skee of seagull, slow bark of sealions.

I don't mean brunch on the sand or the tossed beer bottle of the heart,

but lifeforce, ocean you carry within, that rolls like leviathan,

sending upswelling waters to restore each wide dawn.

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This content downloaded from 91.229.229.96 on Thu, 12 Jun 2014 23:07:01 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions