Poem: Ocean Waves

 

Ocean Waves

 

each crest as if urgent,

reaching up

from the brutish toil below,

 

and yet they cannot break free

from the churning froth-ribbed

fence.

 

as long as the sea has hackles,

the force march 

of snarls and savage rants 

raves on

spanning the days, the moods,

below the mountainous disdain 

of continents--

 

only to die,

tasting the hem of freedom

with a whispery nick.

 

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10/26/25 eds