The waves
Boiling north with the rip
Gallop on diamond light,
Repulsing, convulsive,
Ruffled manes melting
To spray.
They refuse each resolution
But the skid on glass,
The collapse to white,
The soothing lilac blue
Still as the sun
Pushing down the day
In turbid rouge.
There are figures to greet them,
Indifferent surfer girls
Veiled in the haze like islands
Bruised and distant, who stare
Below, beyond, ahead for what they
Haven't seen yet, as the wet light
Swallows their edges.
Sunset falls like gasoline.
An entire summer spreads across the sky.
A barely perceptible purple winter
Quivers like lard on the other side,
Giving nothing away.
There are crickets
As the lightbulbs take the night.
