French air. The gloomy offing to the south. Freshening wind, white birds.
White birds in the waterwind, the edge of an ice cube. The bay is full of
sails. Flags are waking up.
     The bay is full of baybies. Each one sprouts a membrane in the shape
of a sail. Little sharp-toothed red demons sit at the tillers. Little
big-boobed white angels stand in the prow, pretending they are flying.
Flag bay in the thick chilly blue air. The bluebrine air. The quay lining
the waterfront, quay of blue, black, white, gray, tan stones. Beigestones
and green seagrass.