Saturday, August 8, 2015

Friday, August 7, 2015

saltwater healing

In Neah Bay the clouds are low, light
a soft, gauzy scarf of gray,
the yellow green of beach grass,
a fat, brown bunny
lingers by the van,
twitchy, hungry,
white foam rolls off
the granite counter of water,
slow and subtle
while ravens peck around
last night's campfires
search for loot and
a small girl unearths
a crab's claw from the sand,
draws a circle around herself,
defines her personal space
then erupts into a hole,
pink fotted pajamas
with leopard spots,
all animal this morning,
the sand through her fingers,
her steady gaze towards
the sea.

I am starting to see
my hips in her,
her gait through warm sand

the way her hair softens
in the sea air, her collarbone,
the strength in her calves,

the intensity of her joy,
her sorrow, the energy
in the room,

her grandpa still in bed,
the hollows of his cheeks,
the sockets of his eyes

and how she stood so still
so brave as he sipped
breaths like dark caverns

like train tracks,
like angry crows,
breaths like sunshine,

like relif, like her
soft, raspy voice when
she says I love you.

On the hike to Shi Shi BEach
the trees cris-cross
with layers of light

moss and lichen and mud
and children, swords and
fairies and long ago stories

from school, Eliana's tales
go on and on
details and specifics

Soli just wants to
keep up, he told me
he's nervous for kindergarten

will Elie be there at recess?
and we say yes as they
bump and kiss, she holds his head

he holds her face and
sometimes it's all so surreal
the green and the light,

the haystacks in the sea
the warmth of the sand.