Seascape Flowing Through No Time

Fast running waves, each crest sweating moonlight. Crushed pebble beach shape-shifting pinioning froth to night sky A saline wind dunks, strands of spume latched to flotsam, all conjured out of a fleeting. I recall now that I was not there to record all this. I was elsewhere writing it down. I hear a mechanical corrosion of ‘since’ and ‘when’ and ‘then.’