Exhale

sea grass

Exhale

It was one of those days when the waves
crown one another, white upon
roiling white. When water
bites the shore, chewing sand
into a turgid stream of brown
to leave bone-bright flotsam
clasped between reedy green fingers.

It was the minuet precision
of a lone gull
dancing with the surf.

It was sun and cloud and sun and rain,
morning mist, afternoon fog,
the silent roar of drowning land.

It was the wicked laughter
of friends, the blush of a girl,
a boy emerging mother-naked,
stripped by sea.

It was the long walk
from nothing
to nothing.

It was watching the planet breathe.