It is not the wind that moves this sea between us,
only she that loves these waves between us.
A man can walk for many miles along a salty beach,
yet never swim this rolling sea between us.
There is no bird to carry him unto a farther shore,
or fish to speak across the deep between us.
There is no earth, no vacant sky that is an angry sea,
not one that churns as does this sea between us.
If moon can climb the wind as man can roam the shore,
Atticus will ride this moon across the sea between us.
Whetstone: It is no coicidence that the moon rules both emotions and waves.