The calm
between tides
the waiting.
The sea kissing,
like an angel,
tickles the rocks
with its gentle
ministrations.
For this is the
calm,
the disguise,
the cloak of
mystery,
the silkie siren
songster sea.
The latent malice
hushed,
like a sleeping
child,
in this masquerade
between tides.
The wind holds
its breath
and the curtained
sun
smiles
benevolently
warming the
shallows
with its eye.
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