The red briny sea longs for the sky, the land
But she cannot touch either; she fizzes secretly with jealousy
That men may breathe the air and tread sod.
The sea has seen many things; tossed longboats, cloaked monsters,
Heard trojan song. She does not tell.
There is too much of her to count or chart,
At night she bathes the sun, and when morning comes
She hangs it out to dry.
By day she watches placidly, smooths treacherous rocks.
The sea smiles as she watches the fisherman at his table,
Through the little window that faces the bay,
Eating his stargazy pie.