Bounty of the Deep

Cast your nets into the sea
While heaven wastes her birthing waters
Mothers labour to deliver unto the gaping maws of hungry sand

Throw true and beware the twinges of sodden thumbs

Or run the risk of jagged eyes with crosshatch visions
Of searching for ever higher keys
Until mirrors ripple, shatter and refuse to coalesce into images of what once was
Skies wring out their torrid skirts

And I run no risk of becoming wetter still