BAJA COAST

Curling in cinematic slow motion
the Pacific teases the desert shore
saying I am the water you need
and rushes headlong to crash
in utter chaos against rocks
in an eternal game of red rover.

After the sun has set I stand
at the tidal edge of beach
trying not to be afraid of what
moves in the fathomless deep.

Coursing through darkness like an arrow
aimed as surely as the moon in its course
the sea bird’s call pierces my heart.

No matter what you say
or how you touch me
I am utterly alone in the world
except for slight bare brushes
with other individual existences.

Does the Gray Whale stop to sleep
out there in the deep roiling ink?
And the calf, is it afraid?