Guilty gifts

[Quixilated]

Hello Keith,

I love this, the ocean or storm as a living thing, the breathing and hunting as though it were a wild beast, just fantastic.  Just a few minor suggestions below. 

She wanted to feel small again, yes.
still brave enough
to shout her name into the head wind,
to breath herself alive in the rising swell.

The pier was deserted as she stepped over
the danger sign that danced on its rusty chain. 
Through the murk of stirred up sand
her red raincoat appeared disrespectful  something about "appeared disrespectful" is tripping me up.  It is too mild maybe for the response?  It is like the relationship of the red cape to the angry bull, but the bull doesn't feel disrespected, it's something more intense than that to become riled to the point of charging, perhaps a stronger catalyst for all the violence that follows, maybe it is taunting, or mocking, provoking ... red should stand for danger, for keep out, for anger, but she is wearing it for safety, and in misplaced confidence in the situation, it is an affront to the deadliness gathering.
to one so angry, one so hungry.

The wooden boards flexed like sleeping ribs love, love, love this!!!  Like the monster breathing, yes!
as a large wave spewed over a little café
soaking her favourite Sunday morning spot
to sip hot Mocha.
She would watch the red of the sun You use "red" only a few lines earlier, and then again at the end, perhaps another word for red here? Crimson maybe? Unless the repetition is serving a purpose maybe?
behind closed eyes and inhale the sea-salt air,
the way her mother had always done. Also this stanza, but mostly the second half of it, is suddenly peaceful and also in the past.  I felt jerked away from the action.  The building of the storm builds anticipation in the reader, to step away feels like cutting all the threads you just pulled and then you will have to begin again in the next line.  Is there any way this peaceful scene, the reason she is in the location to begin with, sunrises and her mother and coffee, can be moved to the beginning when all is still well?  

Far off in the deep its mass was moving,
a vast sea cat timing its run for the neck,
each thudded step counted in the waves  yes, the waves the footsteps of the predator racing toward it's prey, just yes.  
as she ran towards the spray,
a surfer would have known what was coming.
The ocean smashed through the decking,
a sledge hammer on piano keys,    YES
its mouth tight around her legs and chest
as it carried her deafeningly into muffled silence.

On a warm Sunday her usual spot was taken,
a man watching his son crab fishing on the rocks.
” I've got one” the boy shouted,
guiding his catch into a bucket.
He didn't notice the red shape shifting in the sand
surfacing only to fold across the rocks,
a small offering as the guilty tide
bowed with outstretched arms
and stepped away.  The guilty thing leaving the evidence and slinking away, yes.  

Anyway, I love how you brought the storm to life, it is so vivid, I can hear the wind and see the pier moving, and then that it acting out of an emotional response.  Just lovely.  

--Quix