Though I fall far from the Pacific’s graceful shores
I swim with my head held high
Through sea-birds and sea-weeds
And crabs at my toes.
A memory I chose to keep
Brings a feather to the ground,
The wind high on snowy mountains
I can see from the shore
With city sprawl developments
Slowly creeping further West.
So I sing to the lapping
Of this cold ocean’s running tide.
My musings of a sandpiper
Leaving its webbed footprints there,
And barnacles in tidal pools
Slowly draining you know where.
