yes, the sea was still wild after the storm. not evilly wild, maybe even joyfully wild. But we made the mistake of trying to walk along the shore and after filling our soles with tar and soot, it chased us away.
Even the buoy couldn’t stand up to the storm.
And the poor trees along the shore suffered as well.
i keep thinking of the poem by Adelaide Crapsey: “On Seeing Weather-beaten Trees”
Is it as plain in our living shown,
by slant and twist, which way the wind has blown
and the city, as always, endures