Oysters and Martinis
The taste of the kelp-rich ocean contained,
The smell of the evening sea rests upon my tongue,
Citrus floats like tar among chipped and damaged coral.
I’ll be tilting for an extended time.
Soft, salty waves advance and retract methodically,
Until all echoing voices drift in unison.
Soon, I’ll lay ship wrecked
With my satisfied cheek snoozing upon the sandy shore.
