Robin Brown Poet Sonnet

Sonnet 2: The Ghost of the Crest

A single surge of emerald
and gray
Comes sweeping from the 
dark, untamed abyss,
To toss its silver crown of 
salty spray
And greet the shoreline with 
a freezing kiss.
It carries all the secrets of
the deep,
The weight of ships that
never found the shore,
The quiet dreams of fish that
swim and sleep,
The ancient storms that
shook the world before.
It curves into a perfect,
hollowing ring,
A fragile that shatters 
into light,
A passing king without a
court or king,
That vanishes inside the 
shifting night.
The water falls away to leave
the stone,
And walks into the 
wilderness alone.

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