you call it the ocean
i call it a mausoleum
where we lay dead to rest
where one day I will lay
until then i seek solace
in her majesty
the ever inviting sea
her banks and bars
forming breaks calling me
it runs
along the coast
the white sands
lined with sea oats
sandstone shores
granite cliffs
rivers mouths
that wind
to meet the oceans lips
and exhale out
what the current collected
on its route
r.matlack 