Sea Change Poem by Glenn Bagshaw

The sprawl and press of surf tolls out our lives,
that ocean crests forever in its surge,
so this is Jenny's birthday and she cries
at grasp of water scrawling killer's urge.
It seems to her that way. The sea is mean
and waves laugh deadly when they say good-day.
She's glad when home. Dirt's firm if not too clean.
and waves would rave to sound in child-shell prey.
So breakers pound a merry-murder curse
and child dreads vast forever, but fears death.
and still a child: wave-whipped, years slip, I'm worse.
Salt vapors stale the tide of ebbing breath
and spume-capped days grey-drown me in decay.
One stone sent depths when met by Regret Bay.
OR: one stone plunged depths when flung down Regret Bay.