can you sense the swell of newness
sloshing around within the chalice
of all elusive sameness
in that moment before waking
when ocean overwhelms the bay
a diaspora of fishing boats washed up along a coastal roadside
splintered worlds of boats and fish affixed like stone within its pavement
as a token, wheel-well glimmer
offers spinning mica
to those fish who cannot tease apart the light
for this highway is opaque,
just now, translucent
yet, no angler is upset while reeling in a ghost ship
as the sea eddies in an unrelenting mime
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