This is a place to come with:
Six different dogs
Three husbands (6'2", 5'8", 5"9")
Pound dog's first adventure
Shadow of the forgotten tent centerpole
Kids sleeping under an orange rainfly
A new blue Harley and an old greeen Harley
Enough sun to swim once in thirty years
A Polish teacher
Bucket of mussels
Blue coat for morning rain
James Joyce, clouds march across the sky
Three grandsons (5, 3, 1)
I yell across the drum of the surf to my grandson: the waves will fill the entrance in, we have to run Okay?
And we do. I laugh and stumble. We beat the tide. But it is a shallow cave, still a cave, but kind of disappointing. You start right in digging for fossils, for signs. Clouds fasten against the ocean. In front of me, sea stacks, ancient islands. Waves come in the front door. Hiss on the sand. My glasses are spattered with rain. I look over the rim; everything is unclear.
No comments:
Post a Comment