Sea Hag

ancient crone of the sea,
inexplicable dark silence.
Skies breathe above her.

Near the shore,
she boils over,
white foam spewing on black rock,

black rock which itself spewed
eons ago
hot, coursing deep from the Mother herself.

This Ancient does not use words.
She growls and foams and pounds.

The hill rumbles.
No one offers explanation.

She takes
in the flash of a sneaker wave,

and then under the morning sun
she floods the rocks
again and again
this time with frivolity.
Rivulets sing, streaming in unison
from every crevice.

Down the beach her moods gentle,
force turns to caresses,
ceaseless smoothing,
whispers, whispers.

And in town, she lies docile
appearing domesticated
plain as day
in a way

as we forget.

One thought on “Sea Hag”

Comment Here. I Love to Hear Your Thoughts.