At last the sun has shed her morning shroud
to watch the ocean claim and yield the shore;
as earth’s orations ebb and flow, they churn
to rise. Our soul attends their crash and flight.
With fingers interlaced, our hands begin
to swell; and still we walk. Walk past the pier
and through the carefree dogs splashing, chasing
shaking the blessed ocean over dry sand.
Beyond the dogs, a bloated seal lies pocked
with white and marked; one long scar splits
him nose to tail; a racing stripe for diving
deep, for sporting waves. Had he planned
to beach this long? We squeeze hands and step
around the carcass; aiming towards a pier on our horizon;
we know it will take longer than anticipated. We feel the soul
begin to drink; and you are glad to move.
Relax and bask in the glow of the hazy sun.
