At the Three Mile Bay
I ask Awareness if it would go away
Responding with a devious glee
Creates visions to see
A child of man, a boy with a quiet father
Questions which query the Lord,
Why bother?

A while since the Poet had a Muse
A vacant sea for which to cruise
At the bottom, creatures lay
Contemplating grace in a peculiar way

Till in the night, a looming sound
Bright and cold
A thing unbound

Beautiful in white and lace
For which stories would be written
A creature with a pulchritudinous face
Familiar in innocence
Lovely in naivety

A bright and hopeful light
For a man like me
Silently floating
Lost at sea