Night Ocean

Never will this droning,
This clawing,
This wind-swept yearning
Cease — the surf, the ocean,
Sing to me
In my years.
My harmonies,
I see possibilities,
Though at night
I cannot see the sea.
I know it's there
Out on a wave and a wing,
Not a prayer,
My thing,
Buoys ring.
Popples are glottal.
Incantations of water;
Upon the rocks
A slaughter.