Harbor Poem by Stan Petrovich

Where dawn drains the sucking clouds
In agony for the russet rocks
Colliding on the beach below,
The undersea's ironic calm
Teems with the energy of heat,
primitive teeth aiming straight and true,
Unlike the wildly random lightning flashing above,
The tortoise not in love
With the seasnake;
The electric eel discharging on barnacles,
Particles of wind-driven rain
In the face of yellow-suited sailors,
Who shout and steer as if they were born there,
High-tide creatures of the sunken wave.