Lorraine Walker Williams tells her inquiring editor that the form of 'Salt Brine Breeze,' this week's Poetry Place dandy, has no name. She provides her own comment on the mirror image the poem creates. We're going to call it her poetic palindrome. Lorraine's work appears each Thursday in the Santiva Chronicle.

Salt Brine Breeze

For once the sea gave up its salt,

sent it on its breath the breeze.

The briny scent did not assault—

a sense of smell did not displease.

 

The salt brine breeze blew with ease

reminding me of a distant beach.

An almost August day could please,

a summer’s day where I could reach

 

deep within memory’s sleeve.

I roll back to a day I stand,

my feet in sand as waves tease,

my child holding tight my hand.

 

My child holding tight my hand,

my feet in sand as waves tease.

I roll back to a day I stand

deep within memory’s sleeve.

 

A summer’s day where I could reach—

An almost August day could please,

reminding me of a distant beach.

The salt brine breeze blew with ease,

 

a sense of smell did not displease.

The briny scent did not assault

sent it on its breath the breeze.

For once the sea gave up its salt.

Lorraine Walker Williams

About the poem: I walked onto the beach one morning and the breeze carried the clean scent of salt and that became the first line. I decided to play with the language and after stanza 3 began to reverse the lines. The poem became a song of reflection.