I see the sea lap the rocks
the streaky current pulsing sinuous but
smooth
& tall
my breath is still
& the wind is still—

the wind is
so
still.

My cross-legged legs are streaky pulsing currents
the spine shaped by carpenters with bendy rulers
I count on one hand
all the thoughts I think—

man
that wind
is so
still.

Cloudless skies in full dominion tempt forth
wise smiles
on all sides
& breathless

still

breathless
one hand only presence

I see the streaky sea lap the rocks.