The water in the harbour is clearer and calmer today than it has been in the last few weeks. Sitting on the boardwalk, one can look down and see much farther than would be expected. Still, the effect resembles a cypress tree painted by Van Gogh.
An unusually large starfish, so close: and then several more appear as if from nowhere (though it's just how the eyes work), and dozens, countless tiny comb jellies with two long tentacles apiece. One even puts on an impressive light show. The predominately red light moves quickly along the radial canals, which recall the ribs of an umbrella. In the centre there is from time to time a spark of green-white.
Minutes pass. The bright one floats downward, and it becomes more difficult to trace its movements in the increasing depth.

amidst silk boxes and clay
the veins in her hand a blue echo of the thread of my shirt
next to the woman beside her she looks like a child
but feels as old as stone