The Beach

Before leaving our car with him Breeze shouted after us, from his porch, “don’t forget to look up.”

Later the clouds were sediment, the star’s shell dust gathered in the small sand valleys of thin ocean water near the barely dry sand.

We named a few caves that already been named, figured every use for boulders and drift wood.

Simon Wolf

Poet and teaching-artist in Seattle, WA.

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Look away

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Enough about words