Even though I live on the high plains of Wyoming, my poetry often features ocean imagery.

I’m really not sure why, but the sea always seems a great metaphor for change.  It’s something about the boundlessness of the waves and currents and tides.

In this poem called “Shorebirds,” I take advantage of the shoreline as a physical location for that change.


All night we wandered sands.
We saw the shorebirds in their rags.
They skirt the salty waves, the edges
that only together are possible.
They dipped their talons in white noise
along the rising foam.
Under a boomerang of tides
they flashed their silver feathers.

There we stumbled upon ourselves
in the owling of our hours.
The ocean intertwined.
Waves knew forever.
Our toes blended in swells.
The silver of our second skin
moved like a thing alive
just below the covering of sea.

Note: Poem first published in Five in 2015.


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