The Ocean Roars
Waves slam upon the cliffs, the Bed of Rock.
There is no silence.
The deafening whoosh, in all of it's rampage, vigorously tears and pushes to its ache.
Above there is a thunderstorm.
It stirs the clouds like a soft-served poison.
Lightning strikes every given surface that stands up to its power.
Underneath, the silence is no less, as the motion below the surface bustles like a busy New York City district on a Sunday Afternoon.
100 miles out there is a small boat.
Watching, waiting until it can make it's way back to shore
As the weather passes for today.
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