35

At 6:41pm the landscape changes
as scrub pines rise from sandy soil
and my elbow leans on tomatoes
encased in plastic between you and me.

We arrive in daylight while my right eye
is red and the walls are white.
In the morning and through the night
the ocean crashes through fog.

So I think about little cat feet
and drink tea in the morning.
Slowly my voice rises
to the usual volume.

By the lake a little bird protects
from a wide-winged hawk.
-Hannah



The fog was so thick over the ocean
Casting a heavy shadow beyond white boats
Sharp edges of water and sky dissolved
Melting blurrily into endless grey

"Undermined bluff: keep back 25 feet"
Clay earth plunges down to the tumbling sea
Water meets so violently with the earth
Ocean's wide spray catching gleams of sunlight

Stacked rocks down below lined the dirty coast
Rust, pink, white, grey mix; they're ever-changing
Bones and shells of lifeless, displaced creatures
Roll with rounded rocks in the retreating tide

Salt left behind on stones sting shoeless feet
Waves slipped between rocks on their way back to sea
-KM