Sea-Slides Poem by James McLain

That curvaceous side of the moon,
as wave upon wave,
and learning each dimple is where.
If I am he of whom you must over turn color.
The hill is curvier,
because of the shadow the net I cast.
Some black and white patch of the tide.
Seeing gray faraway,
but the rain does not last except over there.
Squatting down in the sea the girl,
breached the top coming up as a woman.
Watching the sand with me the wind said.
You must not cancel the storm they must see,
you calm the four corners of the sea slide.
Before the ring of circles like this must close.
And likened is the pool where all but two stones.
When profits thus speak,
our wounds are washed away open clean.