[Poetry] Two Poems by DH Jenkins

Salmon Jumping

 Salmon are jumping thru waves like sun

through clouds,

in rainbows, in synchronous swimming

gliding through circus hoops

of the far & above.

And the waves crest in mountainous arcs

tailing sculpted hands reaching out,

fingers splaying a welcome to us strangers

of the wider rolling world.

Crisp atmosphere of salt plume spinning,

ropes the viewer's longitude and latitude

into ringlets of snow-flake structures

falling, blowing, swirling.

And from this ancient wooden boat we feel

the arc and play of their wild display

reminding us of our striving, our fulfilling

of truly being alive, as well as overcoming

that long-tailed grief

of the recalcitrant world of vine, snake

& beast—the jungle from which we arose

eons ago, before having discovered

at the edge of earth

a beach, an Ocean, endless & flowing.

Under the Pandanus

 Under the Pandanus, we walk in easy grace

although the earth beneath our feet

burns w/streaks of lava flow.

You are carrying a rack balanced

on your shoulders w/fruit and red meat.

Between us stands a dark mangy dog

licking its chops, and our eyes retreat.

Beyond the beach on the other side of the tree

waves break over the reef like

a brushing drum, a swishing cymbal,

music soft as sea shell voices and coral lace.

Our eyes meet again under this pandanus tree,

its graceful spidery leaves

droop down with delicate intent

softening the edges of our inner ears

the distance between us now, smooth

and flowing as the sea weed.

DH Jenkins' poems have appeared in Jerry Jazz Musician, Global South, Kelp Journal, and The Ekphrastic Review. He lives in New Zealand where he enjoys hiking in the Southern Alps, as well as snorkelling in the Pacific Islands. His new book of poetry, Patterns on the Wall, is available on Amazon.com.