Asphyxiated blue—
Skin kisses the sun;
Waves smash and batter—
Ivory bursts
Enshroud and consume,
Tossing and toiling
Beneath the bubbling illuminations.
Helpless twisting
Gives to selfless thrashing;
Scorched sand rakes
Flesh ensnared, catches,
Body splayed in the midday sun,
Frigid, sopping—midst fire, twinkling.
Salty stagnance withdraws,
Raging, it heaved rejection,
And the torrent onward roared.
The Waking Den 
For me the poem paints a vivid image of waves and a rocky shoreline…perhaps because I photographed such images and the poem triggers those memories…regardless…reallly identified with his poem.
Indeed. This one came to me while I was walking beside the lake shore one bright and early dawn, so I am glad the poem was able to invoke such images for you!