Explore / Poetry

Westcoast Write-On

ocean poem

I have exited myself into the ocean –
as whitecaps,
as waterlogged boardwalks
as waves and wharves and whales.

Expelling myself,
as salt overflowing heavily
soaking – shockingly, stunningly
in your translucent brine.

In your most foamy waves are things which surge me,
or which I cannot sway because they are too strong.

Like salmon billowing strangely, quietly
bobbing in your tides, slowly undone.

When the sound of this –
driftwood crashing on sand
surf darkly everywhere roiling;

There is nothing that can keep me
from keeling over
in this jellyfish release –
the wreck of your sparkling oyster:

Wave over me –
the tide of this sound,
the sound of this tide,
washing float and pier with each rising.

I do not know what it is about you receding and flowing;
only that something in me cascades onto your shore,
your wharf teeming with all that salt.

No beach can hold you.
Not even the boats and buoys and boardwalks –
your spray washes beyond any driftwood,
your wharf holds their turbulence at bay.

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