Demosthenes screamed, cursed the ocean wind
And shook his fist,
But the waters would not listen.
The white waves spat back in anger,
Stretched up along the beach
To where his naked feet stood
Burrowed in the sand.
His voice came louder with each wave.
He burned his ear drums, straining.
There where the sea was
A thousand faces leered.
The young girls laughed,
their mothers gossiped
And an old man coughed.
Demosthenes, red-faced, stuttering,
Could not bear the tumult.
Angry, he spat the pebbles from his mouth
And hurled them at the sea.
A dozen tiny holes broke in the water
Ripped along the surface,
And only grey-green long waves
Were there to listen.
Demosthenes stood out above the city.
A thousand faces leered
That could not hold their silence,
And tumult rose like breakers
At his feet.
He could not find his pebbles
And he drowned their sneers
With angry shouting.
The tide drew back in awe.
No foam lay on the waters.
Jay Cohen