A curl of orange peel
falls like a helpless marionette
with each pip deposit the plate rings 
your window frames the young sun 
sweeping a heaving ocean of prose
also through glass arcs of breaking waves 
appear as poetry beyond collection
their shoosh heard all throught the night
never one concerned to get somewhere
you balance some time later
upon volcanic dust by those hooked waves
effervescent and fractal
troubles fade like the breakfast down your shirt
you realise your plan
as a tentative shifting mosaic
smoothed glass pixels placed at your feet
by those protean waves whose vortices imperil 
every rock piercing the surface
from the snorkeller to the leviathan
you may fall like a thousand others
to the sand with Etna's grit
and go with the flow