West Beach

The beach - this morning -
Not yet noon -
It is different than yesterday -
Yesterday, on the Peninsula
there were
Whispers of wind, gentle;
Laughing waves, lapping and happy

Today -
a kicking wind and chill,
tossing my hair:
whipping wind from waves that are solemn
and slate-colored,
not quite angry,
but saying something profound.

There was a storm here, not many months ago,
Ripping through this Island,
over the Peninsula,
far inland -
Yesterday,
the evidence lay at my feet
and stood in tall heaps all around me:
Homes stripped bare
Wires hanging beneath tall stilts;
there used to be a floor there.
Someone's shoe in a dune,
A door laying just beside,
but still, and all - yesterday, on the Peninsula,
there was a peaceful, lolling Beach.
I painted a picture
and watched the Island lights, shiny on the water
while the ferry dozed lazily
and lulled me to the shore.

Today I took myself
far West
To the beaches
that are not for tourists,
where there are no hotels,
no bars or shops built up along the shore.
Today on this Western beach,
the Island seems alone,
and so do I.

Wind-swept, storm-weary beach ahead:
A rickety pier - once straight and true,
Now has yellow tape strung through,
warning me not to cross.
I do anyway
and walking the hurricane-beaten boards
makes me feel a little bit
like I'm in a carnival fun house -
at the end of the pier,
a missing step . . .

Sandy beach that beckons at the end of the pier . . .

What is it about the waves
that call?
that pull?
Something wild,
yet peaceful
untamed -
Free.
I want to stay

Walking up and down
delicious wet sand -
The shells are bigger
on this lonely Western beach
So I pick four -
one for each child -
even though the baby is too little
to know the difference.
I found a piece of coral, a sand dollar,
even a spiral shell -
though the spirals never make it to shore
all in one piece.

My hands, laden now -
selfish with shells
it is time to go
I would stay on
Gaze at water upon water
Going on forever
Rising above me -
Never seeing the edge

This day, gray and chilly
Reminds me of a life I used to have -
Dip my feet in chilly water
on another Coast;
A beach of gray, pebbly sand -
Not this life -

Tumbling feet
through sun-bleached sand
fine stuff
gritty
a new life

Wish I could stay on -
on this blustery beach all day.
I am glad I went past the Sea Wall -
I am glad I drove West today

4-11-2009