The Sea The sea is a feline huntress, Arching her back against tumbling waves. She pads along raw coastline, Hissing and spitting at crumbling rocks. Claws extended, she leaps, Her unwary prey swallowed in crashing tides. Her eyes change with moods like shifting winds, Unstable, wild, flickering back and forth, Bearing acquaintance to roughly hewn granite, Then rivets of lapis lazuli, And clear as uncut diamonds. Brushing past sandy floors, Her sleek fur ripples gently, Creating soft currents. She sleeps, no longer hunting. The sea sleeps
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linda
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Miss Music
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