Wintering

egrets               beached
on a cold day 

the color of their wings
almost              absent

the color of the ocean
winding in

  

 

abandonment’s barb                you stand
on the coast 

aluminum scraps
sifting in foam

  

 

noon moon
dejects the tide 

water levels
rise 

flotsam                        in place

a buoy
floats the rope

  

 

sight inscribes a thought
on the seascape’s
tome 

tan grass
in thin wind 

smudges the                untouched
sky

  

 

gust of gulls
the motor slurs 

mussels grip
the post 

water               licks
the jetty
clean 

it washes
it lashes