Photo by Sofya Kholodkova
Six a.m.—light of a new day just beginning
to illuminate patches
of distant waves through a dense haze.
Tideline dotted
with clamshells, some closed and whole,
others opened
or cracked—morning feast for the gulls.
Their exclamations
a sermon on letting go.
A few surfers
barely visible, one man fishing in waders,
another conquering
the beach tentatively with a cane.
Shore adorned
with deep plum-colored sand dollars,
some with barnacles still attached,
recently left behind by a retreating tide—
Star of Bethlehem
stamped on their rounded tops,
doves of peace held within.
Pelicans fly in formation over the ocean
for a morning repast,
then back to their nests on the cliff.
North end
of the shoreline enveloped in fog
and my long-time love
walking out ahead into the mist.
Editor’s Note: “Shoreline Meditation” was first published in Third Wednesday Magazine.