Go to the beach. Go to the part where nobody lingers. The heron is watching. Seagulls survey. There’s the smell of saltwater. Seaweed tangled among stones. Fragments of shells. Half crabs. Splinters of sunwashed bone. Hear the song of the waves drifting out drifting in. Redwinged Blackbird calls from undercover of wild roses.
Driftwood messengers
Heartbeat rhythm on the wind
Shifts of time
Heron and me
Wind and sea
Space between us
Watcher and watcher watching
Am I alone here
Or part of a whole
Belonging is fleeting
Questions lift and fly
Melody of swash carries
Choirs from other shores
Night birds glide to clouds
I survey you surveying
Graceful hunter
Sky draws her shades
I choose a stone to throw
Those are not my footprints in the sand
I stroll behind
I watch others’ footprints flow
Those are not my friends in the photograph
I stroll behind
I hope they would not mind
This is not my year for even numbers
I step aside
I am Aquarius and partly blind
This is not yet my year of death
I’m standing still
I am older now but destined perpetual Valentine
One white stone
Black Sand beach
navigate steep narrow
for admission
waves
freed bodies
Watch
laughing sands
sun washes
over.
Pencil Notes 