Along The Shore
by Kate DemereeIt is water to which I am drawn,
Ever as it was from time imortal
There is no gentle lap of sea
On sandy shore
Instead white crested
Angry waves crash, spray
Cold gray rock faces
Scouring cracks and crevices
Clean of the left over
Grit of past storms
Leaving behind it's own residue of
Streaming foam
Moss and weed
Ginger footed I pick my way
One black booted foot on
Jagged rock
The other in the sea
Drunkenly I stumble on...
08/20/2004