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.’
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