Col. Inlet

Long curved theatre
Pressed up against the surf
Holding there stone attention
To srayed white froth
Deep billowings
And the hands of multitudes.

Masts of ships
eyes_____inhale the ocean's tears
for Relief.
Gasped libations and pagan steps
Sounds
You no longer stare right at the sun
There is a crowd.
Too polite to titter and move
Adopting instead a subtle rippling sway;
You are tired salted and damp
and you accept Rest.