Poem 20150505

the sea looked like green glass
almost but not quite still
the sky looked like gray glass
with its smooth, motionless clouds
a handful of seagulls screamed
and the breeze
was almost nonexistent
the salt of the ocean
clung to the skin
and the stink of bait hung
a cloud of fish smells
and also clung to the skin
surfers paddled in the green water
waiting for the few, weak waves
and under the pier
seals waited for scraps
waited to break the lines
of the wrinkled brown men
hauling up fish too small to eat
though they put them in buckets of ice water