“A colossal curling wave rising above a small fishing boat at moonrise,…”

“The wave’s colossal curl lacks the living claw I gave the sea at Kanagawa. Your misty Turner sky softens its terrible grip. Where is the frozen violence, the boat’s peril? Indigo climbs well, but the crest dissolves too kindly. Carve the terror deeper.”

“The colossal curling wave devours the sky, yet its carved contour betrays my misty sublime. Where vapor should dissolve, line imprisons. Still, that towering crest, suspended in pale gold and indigo, trembles with terror and beauty—a magnificent, impossible marriage of flood and engraving.”