She Writes Perfect Verse

Chilly rocky coast
waves crest and furrow
exposing sunken chunks
of cliff face long ago fallen,
breaking, disrupting the water;
foaming, tumbling water.

Pools abandoned, as the tide recedes,
in ponds of carved granite slabs
and piles of rock sealed
with pebbles, sand, decomposing
wood, and the sick,
elderly, and unlucky marine life.

Across the bay, smeared strata
of distant sea, land and water vapor;
sometimes thick, white, fluffy.
Sometimes hazy, translucent.

The clouds retreated, the tide receded,
the sands of the beach stand scripted
as if still coerced by the waves;
accented by conchs, pebbles and the tracks
of a gull. There is verse here --
waiting only to be deciphered.

Sometime later, waves return and revise.

Copyright Todd Zebert