Nighttime audibility
Of the unseen sea

Is proportionate to
Its missing postcard view.

Silent waves, which by day
Limp into the lucid bay,

Sweep in palm-tree height
In the middle of the night,

Until the rain begins, and drowns
Corresponding ocean sounds

With its thrashing sea grape hiss,
A growing tidal-wave abyss

Where winds and waters braid
In a whirlpool masquerade,

Where the reversed rains rise
While rivers fall from skies.

November 22nd and 23rd