A frontier of waves with form
breasted my ankles
with coolness borne from dark fathoms.
Water and foam spread like dust
on the shoreline
where it flows blue and green
over sand broken from
ancient mountains.
The aroma of tumbling water
runs strong over me;
a ripe fruit unchallenged.
Threads of a blue heaven hold the oceans
in place as the waters
wash over me.
Roger Singer 