Red Is Mercy, 'Mom Poem by James McLain

Coming up and out from the grassy sea
and is red is mercy and more is mom
and any shade on the white blinding sand
salty bits and pieces does each grain like rain
as it clings to the copper toned skin
and you laying out burning next to me
and Kenny, 'you said, you mailed away
lucky is she because
knowing, I know of that of which you know
and that of which to you I would then speak.
and With you I would without name,
but you would have to.
and Fully, but still I blush to speak
when I, by you
am caught I am
looking at the not to distant clouds.
Mercy mom arrived,
and her distractions were such is the crescent
when next to full I sit half supposed
gazing at Mercy mom's red bandaged bikini
with a suppleness not quite like that of silk
nor see through nylons
but yet clingy only when partly
coverings of this and that of which is why
We looked, when I to you confessed
and if the sun is cooler than the sand
when made wet by the warm yellow water
and knowing I need even more as grace
than I would to you I could with you reposed
being the sea you could being, each wave
and Mercy is Mom being familial as the snails
would hide the distant shore and smother me.