The sea rumbled and was disturbed.
A light slate-gray, erupting into small, white waves.
"What did I do to anger you, O sea?"
Its thunder grumbles as it says:
"You did not anger me, my child."
The waves suddenly rush inland, pushing sand and seaweed with it.
Leaving its refuse and a tide pool behind, it replies:
"You are not to know."
Sonnet to the Saline Seas
The sea has many colors, light and dark.
When I awoke that morning, it was gray.
In sand a castle built to leave a mark,
But vengeful waves made it not last day.
The sun warmed on until the sea was blue,
The waves grew higher yet, but not too high.
The children joyful swam, yet still they knew,
A storm was brewing and was coming nigh.
Oppressing air from vapors of the sea,
Now green with heat and sunset on its way.
And now the salty tide turns far from me.
The waves and waters chill before they say:
"I do have many moods that suit me well.
Perchance I would not catch you if you fell."
A tricolored cockade was worn during the French Revolution.
What were these colors?
Perchance, they were the colors of the ocean.
A blue sea, a green sea, a gray sea.
Perchance they were the three colors of their rising sea,
A sea of Revenge.
For, like the sea, the People were fickle, variable.
A rising sea, rising because of the storm.
No, there was only one color of sea and People in the presence of the "sharp-witted
Victim or mob,
It was red.
Shades of Mood
Shades of gray,
Shades of blue,
Shades of green.
Like the sea, our moods will change.
Shades of anger,
Shades of sadness,
Shades of happiness.
The sea is not always lamenting.
The sea is not always relieving.
The sea is not always joyful.
Sometimes it runs mad.
Today, in the hazy light,
The sea is sad.
I believe it has looked too far inland.