Past breakers
beyond the fishing boats
where gentle winds
mold quiet waves
and nothing to do
is plenty,
the seaweed swaths are drifting.
Ruffled edges
in sprawling dance
wash a glass tabletop and weave
like needles through wet cloth
all shimmering
in the black button eyes
of a bobbing marble seal.
How lucky they are
to have this to themselves
in the vast and swinging volumes
of a hushed sovereign sea.
– Samantha Brown
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