"Never so ghosted or small as when alone
on the fragile truce of this strand where sky
and sea stretch what you can hold in the shell
of your ear, your film of skin, between your eyes,
standing on wrack and kelp amid the shoosh
of crisped surf on cockled sand and shore stones.
From further out you feel the heave and thrash
of black-green breakers, bull-headed hellbenders,
white-tipped whale waves, as the swollen lour
and weight of the world in water thunders
while crosswinds girl and breach to scour
and scrub clean the hollow and heft of yourself."
-- from On Cloughey Beach by Alan Gillis
|Montaña de Oro State Park, California.|