From his window he would look to the sea,
a daily, an every moment sea,
of spring and neap tides,
slave of the moon and wind,
mirror of the skies.

By the shore, where the waves come to die,
he dipped his toes
raised his eyes…And he walked
to where it touches the sky,
so he could the birth of waves feel,
into the sea, towards the open sea.

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