green sea

this sea, this green
swaying
drink of memory
and shipwrecks,
of waves and fish that
will never be seen,
dark in their brooding
caves, not tinseled
or golden, but the color
of rust, the color of
beams held
in the grip of salt
and sand, lying on the mud
floor with bleached bones
where the earth ends.
so much of what we don't
know, we can't see,
or ever will.
this sea is where we
come to drown,
to renew, a place to
fall in love or accept
loves end, a place
to sail upon and pretend
to escape
from where we've been.