the country I’m composed of (embedded sonnet)

The poverty of the sea
The columns of broken hills
And the shattered escarpments

The mound of pillaged hills
And the chopped land
The excess of the sky

Whose grasping light
Reaches out
Far out beyond
The weeping land

And brings back
Handfuls of smoke
Mouthfuls of salt air
Dressing and stripping

With cloud and salt
The mourning field