Wooden pillars squeak in the afternoon wind

Waters slap against the shore

Not angrily but without end

Bleached bright pier reflects the sun

Man holds his pole on a “No Fishing” sign

Like a catch would have been fun

The sky so tantalizing blue

It fools you into thinking

The water is too

The sun also plays games with your mind

Shimmering off the murk...

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kraken

leviathan
rusty bones
supporting hide
of rotting wood
the pungent smell
of seaweed

digesting
long dead things
its aged frame
crawls ashore
clicking like
fighting crabs

groaning
exertions
sand sloughing
from its skin

primordial
grey skies
clinging mist
clothing it
in gloom

a thousand
scrabbling legs
gripping claws
taking root
heaving carcass
to the shore

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