When the still sea conspires an armor
  And her sullen and aborted
  Currents breed tiny monsters
  True sailing is dead
  Awkward instant
  And the first animal is jettisoned
  Legs furiously pumping
  Their stiff green gallop
  And heads bob up
  Poise
  Delicate
  Pause
  Consent
  In mute nostril agony
  Carefully refined
  And sealed over