From August 9, 2012
Sometimes it's about the fence--
Like this splintered one right here.

A dream dies; I bury it at the fence.

Beyond:
Sea oats,
White foam
Hushing the crash
Of each wave
And clear sky
That leads to some vast
And wild over-there:
Europe, Asia, Black, Red, and Dead seas...
Everything...

I stand at the fence and
I toss back lumps of coral
That have sat in the garage for years
Though they were never mine to keep.

They have been too long away
From the ocean that bathes softness
Into sharp edges.

I stand at the fence,
And I give them back.

One Single Impression