I salute the deep swells
Of an ocean that rolls
It’s hunger audible. Sucking. Heaving.
The breath, then the rasp of shingle
Dragged across the palate
That moment of calm, when
I imagine the stomach is full
Before another lunge below the moon
Announces gravity will not wait
And sailors bob on waves
Duty bound, flung in a dance
A flamenco of spray and romance
So far in land that this
May or may not be happening
But it matters not
Because it satisfies my minds eye.