How to Explain What I Feel for You orWhy I Refuse to Write about the Ocean

No wonder the sunbathers
have heeded the warnings of tides
and moss-slippery rocks. The danger of drowning
is so obvious, the water a moonscape
of possible disaster. It's safer and less messy
to be straddling the grass with a cup of decaf,
fishing for adjectives.

So let me tell you about the perfect grass,
that clipped expanse of easy green.
Let me tell you about the coffee, the white ceramic cup,
the thick cream,
and two, even spoonfuls
of sugar.