A letter in the water near the tree in the way that words go orange on a scale of one to ten. No one in the ocean but a blue cast of owning all. People are parking lots, and the lines in their poems look like strip malls. An advisory from the coast goes to the yellow extent, but green is an awful lot. These aren't poems as people mean. These are simply reports of varying degrees, all of which look like rains. Rain is so purple on plump cold days, more red by simmering ones. We have a lot to share in a message sort of way.