Prevalent here, the lightening throws a pose
and looks an empty interstate of sorts,
suspends an evening's gaze to a sprawling
river with many empty mouths to feed.
Reflection on a shallow water, cloud
on cloud and riffs of blue on blue,
the thunder cannot match the flash—
storm light's discharging pleasantries.
Barely visible tall grasses—wind
roils all the vacant surfaces,
mind's mix of troubles. Stars are trapped
backstage behind curtains of clouds—,
any visitor takes back seat to these
theatrics: voltage safe at this remove.
Tucked between two briny rocks
a lavender anemone contorts and waves
her fleshy arms
in rhythm with the sea.
The ocean rushes in to claim my feet -
her sandy, foaming fingers
vainly hissing in retreat.
I troll the strand for gifts
presented by the tide:
A tennis ball
A lobster claw
A plastic shovel
intertwined with kelp and fishing line.
A gull strolls nonchalantly near to me –
his clever eye considering the possibility
of sharing in my noon repast.
He opens wide his beaky lips
and with a shrill, indignant screech,
he wings away along the beach
to raid some unsuspecting bather’s
bag of pita chips.
Pelicans patrol in fine formation
breaking rank to plunge face-first
into the herring-rich lagoon.
A barnacle-gray giant
breaks the far horizon
bounding on to colder waters north
to feed and breed,
then, south again to tropic calving grounds.
The tang of sea wind tangling my hair
A tropic ocean pulsing through my veins,
I walk the shore.
My feet sink deep.
Two footsteps pause for one brief life,
then wash away and are no more.