Nighttime audibility

Of the unseen sea


Is proportionate to

Its accepted daily view.


Silent waves which by day

Limp into the prevailing bay,


Sweep in palm-tree height

In the middle of the night,


Until at least the rain drowns

Out corresponding ocean sounds


With its thrashing seagrape hiss,

A growing tidal-wave abyss


Where imaginations braid

In the water’s masquerade, 


Where rivers fall from skies

And reversely, the normal rains arise.


November 22nd - 23rd