I am at the angle of the water line. I smell the salt in everything. I smell life and death. Glistening remnants remind me of the passing of the life that laps at my feet. Thanks for taking me here as only a good friend could!
I read this and am careful, picking my way along the sand in my bare feet, sure I'm about to cut myself on broken shell any moment...and I too can smell the salt, feel the foam blowing hard...good poem Lowell,..thanks.
I like the shape of this poem on the page -- the shoreline -- the receding water -- a broken shell.
ReplyDeleteLovely image, and knowing it's the Pacific NW coast makes me truly visualize it.
ReplyDeleteI am at the angle of the water line. I smell the salt in everything. I smell life and death. Glistening remnants remind me of the passing of the life that laps at my feet.
ReplyDeleteThanks for taking me here as only a good friend could!
I read this and am careful, picking my way along the sand in my bare feet, sure I'm about to cut myself on broken shell any moment...and I too can smell the salt, feel the foam blowing hard...good poem Lowell,..thanks.
ReplyDelete