Sea Stacks

A delightful write

skipped rocks through a stream today

the opening of a brand new day

its frame is in minor decay

the bleached wood massed in bone piles,

we pulled it from dark beach and built

fire in a fenced clearing

the posts' blunt stubs sank down

the circled and were roofed by milled

lumber dragged at one time to the coast

We slept there

　

Each morning the minus tide-

weeds flowed it like hair swimming

The starfish gripped rock, pastel,

rough. Fish bones lay in sun

　

Each noon the milk fog sank

from cloud cover, came in

our clothes and held them

tighter on us. Sea stacks

stood and disappeared

They came back when the sun

scrubbed out the inlet