The Color Of Water

Iridescent hues claim the arc of the wave right before it crests
into light
the sun and my eye and my anchored stance create these colors
together

at the moment of tumble, a wall of mirrors appears
the taut wave at point of collapse 
refracting the light into me

(or is it a ruse
to keep me from looking through her?)

the spectrum assimilates, spilling into a churn of surf
offspring of the undulating liquid abyss

a foam-white carpet of air 
(the white that contains multitudes)
reaches beyond the boundary of shore

tomorrow, more gently, the lapsed blue
(is it the same as your blue?)
settles into sandy bay containers
drops of a maybe-the-same ocean
but tempered now, in glass silence

the angles of iridescence lost in transfiguration
(having sloughed off their sharp tint and violent beginnings)
crystalline shadows still lodged in the space between my eyes
and the sun

***