The Sea

'Midst the endless roil of green-gray glass,
A notion stirs, soon forgotten
In the perpetual motion of the infinite sea,
Which, ever vexed by its memory's failure,
Roars frustration to the saline winds,
Half-heard only by gulls and the swirling sand.
Shells lay scattered upon that sand
Like shattered remnants of so many dreams
Broken upon the bulwark of time,
Vomited evidence of the unclear mind
In the churning ocean and its rolling waves.