D.B. (draft one)

You had a sense of something beyond the horizon
The small victories of commerce could not satisfy you
And this because there is a final Victory
Beyond the splashings of boys with toy boats
Well beyond the nervous struggle for a small advantage

It no longer was a matter of the theft of another's items
Or utterance of words, even one's own

I came to know you this evening
Waves dashed up, silvery, against stone
All was monotone save for some edge of the sky
Where a light, where a color, hovered in almost
Consciousness of its own delicacy
Against the gloom

It is my belief
That your action was designed not for this sandbox struggle
This grimacing and grunting for a flag
But rather
For that sole strip at the edge of the world
Between the clouds