Fifty feet away waves rise like thoughts

to smash against the rocks.

Somewhere beyond this place

there is a storm,

sending its waves

like an anonymous suggestion

that calm water would be so much less

without its opposite.

Inside, the lights buzz

and nothing changes color over time.

Sometimes a larger wave

shakes the air to a stiff shiver

and the cashier raises his head,

but the horizon remains

pretty much in place

and the cruelty of selling

unimportant things creeps along.

Smoothed by tedium and the subtle,

too close truth of the sea,

he will not sense the moment when

the waves begin to come from somewhere else.