Please Listen, Sea
The sea won't quit rolling.
With foam splashing, not intending to harm,
But getting in my eyes and making them violently water.
So I yell, "Quit it! Quit moving! "
The green sea won't answer me.
I wade till I'm a meter deep.
And I can see, as well as feel,
The water's weeds consuming my pale toes.
I feel helpless, but capable of moving: semi-moored in mud.
I take a solitary step in the direction of land,
While sea foam, sea weed, and waves
All crash and lackadaisically smash around.
They won't quit.
I leave the water, and the sea never listened.