the ocean ends here

on a knife edge of sand

packed flat

wind-rippled

I take in a horizon

hypnotic in its oneness

a solitude I know

even as I am

known

at my back the overflowing

turmoil of a continent

cresting into

crash-fractal

stretch and pull

of foam white light

ice-blue-bright

Atlantic salt wind

scours the earth

scours the sea

sand

my skin

scours me

dream clouds in ranks

march beyond the horizon

to gather on distant shores

I watch them as a child

studies the striving of adults

workings of the shore wear

me smooth as dolphin skin

here in this naked scape

I go down easy

I am swallowed whole

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