Rocks and the Sea

Shimmer and whisper the rocks
and the sea
as morning and evening
they make company. One brushes
soft fingers across the neck splintered
so oft by frenzies of storm

But now, not a scar
none to fear as
they strike out to their worn
longitude: only a stale blue to
our cattle crowds
Yet each fathom below, each knot
wind-climbed, is woven with salt
a dear, ominous brine

It echoes the invite of a love-stricken sea
it hastens its friendships
 stash a cloak 'round
the meeting. Unseen we shall be
while the pitch stones retrieve their blubbers
--and for this embrace, between rocks
and the sea, a tyrant is constructed

to ravage our pieces:
flesh, steel, mortar warped well
into solemn monuments or better
drowned by fishes
To keep a sweet secret
of shame lovely born.