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ALONE AT THE BEACH

I am suddenly vulnerable 
Alone at the beach, on a log. 

It’s our secret beach
The one where we found a giant shell
The day we moved here. 

Storm and rain approach, 
The sky is darkened and our footprints 
Are still here from our last visit. 

You could die in this storm
that will wash our companionable meanders away
And pile the flotsam high and rough. 

My foot twitches unconsciously
My innate optimism worn down
My shoes suddenly awash with 
The incoming sea. 

This siege of our secret spot
A canvas of our companionship 
A metaphor of renewal 
And vision of impermanence
Begins with gentle rain and 
The danger-calls of the sea lions
As they abandon the rocks
And swim towards the 
Onrushing storm.

JP
Frolic Cove, Mendocino. CA
03/23/2020