
Tethered kelp shakes
angry algal fists
at boy racer waves.
***
Reaching for shore,
slow-time tides beat
lunar tattooes.
***
Oil black mackerel
taunt the shore-bound;
Slick and shifting.
***
Wind whips; lips chapped;
horse-tail salt slaps.
Breathe in brine.
| Will on Guya – Page 10 | |
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