Meeting the Oceans

Something I've been working on for a while...


Meeting the Oceans

The first ocean I met was the Atlantic.

Off of Cape Cod
the water was cold
the sharp salty smell strong on the cool breeze.

It sent seaweed onto my beach,
a row of crunchy, dark green,
barring my path to the smooth pale sand at its edge.

We ate lobster and steamers,
and we enjoyed
the Cape Cod Atlantic's company
in the soft June sunshine.


The second ocean I met was the Pacific.

Off Oahu
the water was warm
the smell of the ocean competing
with the steamy, sultry tropical breeze.

It sent tiny animals into dark crevices,
daring me to discover the living creatures
tucked into tide pools in the dark lava rock.

We ate pineapples and papayas and lychees,
and the Hawaiian Pacific
was an excellent host that tropical December.


The third ocean I met was the Atlantic.

Off Delaware
the water was cooling
as we swam in the waves,
ignoring the ocean smell in the allure of the boardwalk.

We rinsed off the noise and bustle of the city,
being carried on the surf,
an afternoon's respite
from the rush-rush bus tour.

We ate cotton candy and taffy and pizza,
and the Delaware Atlantic
was a delightful playmate that late July.


The fourth ocean I met was the Pacific.

Off the Lost Coast
the water was tempting but unreachable
across the stretch of black basalt sand.
It smelled lightly of salt in the gusty wind
as I watched it with my crutches at my side.

It sang background music
to the family reunion,
and we were warned of its tidal strength
in case of an offshore earthquake.

We ate conversation and memories,
and the Lost Coast Pacific
presented a charming backdrop that California June.



[don't worry - the crutches were temporary and long-gone now.]