The ocean was dark and flat. Wind pushed it here and there.
An eagle watched from his telephone pole.
While tourists gathered to watch sailboats toodle by.
And the Pier was partially silent.
As the rocks slapped salt water.
The dark water lay like blue velvet.
The eagle watched . He rose once to coast . Then came back to his perch.
I think even he was too hot to want to hunt.
The tourists fanned themselves with their hats.
Then tried to fish. But it was hot and windy.
Instead they slurped sloppy ice cream cones.
They wondered if Quadra Island, was the mainland, not an island at all.
The eagle watched them toss their lines into the water.
And the day drifted on . And on. Sailboats kept toddling through.
Like little toys. Bobbing up and down.
When I went down to the ocean today.
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