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.