The aquamarine East China Sea, the rocks a burnt umber,
the day free to think about this, or anything I want.
And I do find less to want, these days, less reason to.
Seawater: source of life and its principal constituent.
And this morning, emerald-like in the sun approaching winter,
it rinses layers from the heart, leaving
the half-formed younger organ, puny, that cries
it could do no ...