Seamless soft sand, a roaring sea
Featureless, smooth sky
Gray fog obscurity.
Godwits in tawny plumage, gulls wrapped in clouds
Forage in the margins, each doing
Their dance with the tide.
Brought in daily from somewhere
Nowhere at all, the ocean’s graveyard
A detrital line of gifts from the sea.
Reminders of our frailty
Here just for a moment
Breathing in the long now.
Following a line of pelicans following waves
I traverse the arc of my own disappearance
And am gone before I know it.