Tides
'...the great tide that treads the shifting shore'
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sluggishly the waves steal in like guilty
lovers, apologetic,
smothering the shore with gentle kisses
of contrition;
the ocean lies at rest, the surf recumbent,
apoplectic.
Suddenly the heavens burst, tides no
longer in remission,
swells that idled now surge into shore
their temper rages,
'sotto voce' once, now they roar like lions
in their cages.
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