Poem: Coastal Trail

 

Coastal Trail

 

cobble-shore frost,

it nips at at me, 60kph,

awkward stupid animal

who slips on icy boulders

to squelch in smoky seawater.

 

only a hundred 

sperm-whale lengths to go.

 

waves crash on the curse of the crags, 

ratcheting up the odds of death.

i watch the waves turn ocean spray into Lot’s wife,

over and over,

a disassemble of salt and ghost,

over and over,

she vaporizes, leaps, vaporizes, leaps,

this nameless wife,

who deserved a name,

though when i die 

my name will mean even less

than it does now, 

which on this coastal trail

is nothing.

 

no angel will protect me.

no strings of a parachute,

in this donnybrook of hail,

if i fall off a boulder.

 

or maybe an angel will.  

it must be.  it must!

thousands of poems to write

before i go.

 

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10/26/25

7/9/24 ... keeping on

7/19/23 ... considerable flow and quality edits

https://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/sea+smoke