the black trees
giants hunched against the shuddered
flashing off the bay and I wonder
if I'll get my walk in before
the rain arrives.
heads my way
swinging forthright, rigid arms in
hearty cadence, smiling, selling.
Our eyes connect and peel away
and someone says
good morning for
a walk and
someone says it looks like rain.
Maybe we'll intersect again
on this path in opposition
and I'll worry
protocol of speaking
twice. Some I know by sight I meet
just once in my chase along the edge
yet note their progress through the trees
and playground toys. Their
paths are set in
or smaller loops. Perhaps this
walker hasn't caught her orbit yet.
The threat of rain has passed.
A Mockingbird has
built her nest
Against the shelter of the dune: secret
In the sea oats and goose tongue plantains.
A snake lives on
the dune. I saw it
Yesterday, undulating dark and heavy
In the sea rocket's green leather shelter.
So far, the snake
has kept his distance
Beyond the weathered walk that cuts my dune
In two. I want to interfere.
plan would be upset
For me to stop this coil across the
Morning dampened sand?
now tastes the air.
Catslit eyes pivot slow and choose their view,
But I've no sense he's seeing me.