A wild unruly coastline --
Waves march in ordered sequence
to end in joyous explosions of spray.
Sand etched daintily by the feet of gulls
shivers from the orgasmic thud of surf.
Jagged chins of rock jut defiantly,
tearing fog into grey rags.
Windblown pines,
arthritic sentinels of the shore,
guard its secrets from the sea's
unrelenting inquiries
and sigh in conspiratorial whispers
like bewhiskered old men retelling
oft-told tales.
Stepping lightly,
I walk down long logs
hoping an agate will wink at me.
My hair is salted by the wind.
Eyes down,
I wait for God.
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