I've heard it called the Blue Effect, my hunger
For the sea. But, I walk this shore
And understand this craving is for more
Than a blue panoply. I want the plunder-Seeking
gulls that hover, swoop, and squawk,
The sinking of my feet in shell-studded sand,
And the foam-capped waves that race to tag the land.
I need the snowy egrets which croak and stalk
Their prey and me. I grieve the jellies, beached
And stingless, trapped in dying formless flesh.
Watching the gold-skinned anglers fill their nets,
I marvel that Earth's lonely moon can reach
Across black weightless space to time the tide
And slow my breath and heart to coincide.