the point

Low tide finds

me again at

the Point, under

a late-morning sky

marbled white and

blue,

in the welcome

heat of

a summer

long awaited

It is at

this point,

whose

rocks and pools

captivate

as nothing else,

that I seek out

familiar faces

on the shore,

sheltered under

stones and

boulders

Lifting one, there is

the splash—

frantic!—

of a

gunnel, diving for

cover in

the wrack, a

kaleidoscope of

colors, shapes, textures—

green, smooth, oleaginous;

mauve, knobbed, pliable;

opalescent, diaphanous, slick—

refracted

in the lens

of the pool

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s