THE SEA

A walk by the sea in a sheltered cove,
the distant stars cannot breach night’s dark,
but the sea is revealed with its quiet lapping
on sand, its rhythmic splash on hidden rocks.
And I feel the sea.

The damp sand is firm beneath my feet,
a warm sun bright on glittering waves.
Two far off boats plow their way, decks awash
as they seem to bob in rising and falling swells.
And I feel the sea.

I stand above the sea, on a ship of war.
Yards away three porpoises swim apace,
arching up out of the waves in playful joy,
perhaps smiling at our lumbering progress.
And I feel the sea.

I lean into a heavy wind, plod in clutching sand.
The cold mist lashes my hooded face
as the sea breaks heavy against the shore,
whitecaps spray on distant cresting waves.
And I feel the sea.

These scenes recall during wakeful night,
some from distant past, or from some movie screen.
Though my bed is far away from an ocean,
mind takes me there in an instant.
And I feel the sea.

Gus Daum

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About degus221

A Kansan who has migrated to Oregon.
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