PACIFIC COAST AT SAN DIEGO
Curling in cinematic slow motion
the Pacific teases the desert shore
saying I am the water you need
before rushing headlong across rocks
in an eternal game of Red Rover
to crash in chaos against the jagged foil
that will not ever let it enter.
Does the Gray Whale stop to sleep
out there in the deep roiling ink?
And the calf… is it afraid?
No matter what you say
or how you touch me
I am utterly alone in the world
except for these bare brushes
of our individual existences.
Slicing the darkness like an unseen arrow
aimed as surely as the moon in its course
A sea bird's call pierces my heart.