Inferno

The bay this morning seared
With sun so bright, so fiery,
I avert my eyes from a sheen
That turns the sea

To seamless metal plate,
Etched with static glints
That might be waves but seem
More like corrugations burnt

In acetate. But closer in,
The dents and dimples turn
To walls of spume that crest
And feather in the wind:

Here miracles abound, visions
Shrunk by science fictions
That give them life to slight
But blinding metaphors of light.

July 27th, 2024, Kaiholu