Dyes Inlet on a Grey Day

The water is a color I’ve not seen before;

a steely jade reflected off the hovering clouds.

It is wholly distinct from the midnight green

of the mirrored hills;

different too from the bright silver

in a few chance spots of ideal refraction.

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It’s the grey-green, of a dove in a cedar, that I remember.

it speaks of open ocean, storms and towering waves,

lightning and maelstroms and utter helplessness –-

though the water is as still and clear

as the pane of glass I see it through,

its hidden depths more profound

than the moody, shifting eddies

in a crystal ball.