Photochromics show me sea,
below a pastel white on blue,
has plasticized glaucescence
daubed on over chocolate-mud.
Brendan sees it white. I peer
over my rims - not that I can focus
anything. Glare proliferates,
obliterates - though still
the little hollow growls of waves
hardly knee high, each
expiring in a ribbled hiss...
I push the glasses up my nose again,
through eye-kind lenses see,
paused on the swish swash,
foam-curtain flimsy filigree
about embedded pebbles,
each stuck in their own sand dimple,
trailing Mandarin-'tache backwash wakes
down the cloud-reflecting slope
to the next hump-up
of chocolate mud.
