Missing the Ocean

I yearn for that fold of ocean front.

Her night and fog and wind
baffling my soul into a misty fringe
a thousand startling voices
running on the surf.

Crash again
and I am at the limits of perception
facing this donor of life
giver and taker
lapping at the very altar of my jellied bones.

As blinking foam am I to her embrace
evaporating into the darkness.