A gossamer thin ocean hits low notes today. Only the lower ones , the hapless sullen lover. The nonchalant up - above couldn’t care less.
Wind bleats boat creaks pet dogs merry-hop in the sea-wind.These shores they say have seen the Mayflower come-through.
And yet, several hundred others have sunk to the merciful bottom. Going down is hard albeit low effort.
Sense drowns deep in me or perhaps it’s the nippy wind . Like a fool though I toss away my shoes and walk
Barefoot on the beach, soft sand and silken touch and all.
..Anant
