Ozette

I pushed past the last of the rain-soaked
Branches. Soaked myself from them,
I gazed out at the sea. I let its ceaseless
Roar fill up my ears, and skidded down
A clay embankment, found a pair of logs
To take my tarp and shelter me, and
Searched through driftwood crannies
For some pieces I could set aflame.
The sun set, I imagine, never seen
Behind the sullen clouds, and, in the
Darkness, after dinner, I sat by the
Fire I'd made, and smoked and
Tried to understand why I would
Drive for hours to be here to face
The elements, and never give a second
Thought to doing so alone.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 74 times
Written on 2016-07-20 at 00:44

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