Spanish Banks, Vancouver
we came to look
ended up like kids
bare feet
awkwardness of rocks
prick of broken shell and ribbons
of seaweed
shallows lap our shins
tiny silver dartings
in the stirred-up element
we step into a
huge sky blue beating down
breeze riffles our hair
smog mist
salt on our lips
out here sea floor's ridged
hard under heel with sudden drops
quick breath intake mud
sinking sucking
all around slow churnings
wellings up as of buried griefs
spin at the surface
drawn into tide's great sweep
this time of year
like a grande dame, her skirts --
sea gathers herself
almost to the channel markers
where the big ships pass
herons follow the draining pools
and a few souls specks
in the bluegrey distance
closer to shore
wander each
our random paths
city fades cries of gulls
for a spell we seem
outside time
why we came no reason
to answer a question perhaps
soothe an ache
or to return to the day's claims
with a sense of
having done something
for oneself.
