Coarse Platitudes

Still a sea
conspiring
quarter a moon
devouring
soon trees broken again
said

blabbering
fine particulate sand
from behind pulpit's hand
count them and see

give me back
horse whip
hay stack
latitudes 45 degrees
pie
pig sty

sleep and collect
morning dew
shards of ice
frozen temperature drop
hardened air
dragon breath
description sandpaper
spoken vain manner