To Malison

summer's seaside gray to ocean,
the coats are up, the coast's dim.
we're on our way to Malison
to pout of folds
slight spindly threads.

some waters laps at tapered winds,
winds foam shear, rises light's loss.
spume among destinations
tulles hills all aside for
pauper's lace.

glows's striding sand belowsea,
below covers glowing lessens,
but trekking lengthens along
the lumps and gaps,
fraying to mesh.

for water folds en masse and air
lures arms out to leaven light.
travel's heard barely far, hard,
cursed bends uplift creases
unproud, just to wear.