Eveningtime Darlings

The Ocean Glass

Remember the days when the ocean was still and smooth like glass?
When a lone Pacific Gull, seated on sun-paled driftwood, crooned dully from our mast?
We made a boat. A home. Fish-net, pearl-float, rusty-nailed -- look! An octopus! Hey!
And the octopus would slip through your worked-down, skinless fingers, to live another day,
We touched the sky and kissed the breeze. It found its presence in late afternoon
And the ocean glass would shatter, orange-pink, around our darkened island home.