A Dark Sky Over the White-Capped Pacific
For Robinson
Jeffers
I parked my car at an overlook
along the Oregon coast. In the sky,
puffins and cormorants dipped and
darted.
Further out to sea, a curtain of
rain
spread across the white-capped
waves
and closer to shore, seagulls
circled.
The wind kept knocking the top off
waves,
and I saw the sea struggling while
birds
flew behind a rocky island.
I slept deeply that night, and
beyond
my room, clouds hid the stars, and
the ocean called with wind
whispers.
Rain on the roof became the pulse
of sorrow entering my sleep and
calling itself a name. In my dream,
and a man hid his face as he walked
through the shadows of coastal
palms.
Then, an elevator door opened
invitingly,
and I stepped into charcoal depths,
feeling
something behind me. It was taller
than
my shadow. The night passed.
as I dreamt about the ocean sliding
over sand while a vision foretold
that on the same day, I will die
and be forgotten.
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