Distant and out to sea, the loneliest sound I’ve ever heard - the call of gulls – drifts on the gray of early morning. As if in a dream, I walk the dunes, between foam-kissed shorelines and misted hillocks covered with swaying sea grass grown tall, that leans away as the breath of incoming waves approaches, and fades back as they exhale.
Dark hair in my eyes, I look up the wandering coast and make out the figure of a young woman who is also walking, barefoot and solo, while the onshore breezes push the straw hair from her brow, her pale eyes peering with interest as we draw near, her mouth softening with acceptance. Then, passing each other, we both keep turning every few steps to watch the other walking further away. The sand starts to swallow my feet as I slowly make my way toward the shallows.
bending at tide pool’s
edge, the crabs startle and freeze
as I peer into
the grave of her barnacle
slumbering, finding my own
Add Media
Style