Tow Hill, North Beach

Wisps of salty sea breeze.

Smooth sand stretches endlessly

Into misty haze.

Ravens arch high overhead

Raucously cawing.

Tiny wild red strawberries are

Ruby sparkles in wispy green nests.

Tide line seaweed

Clutches empty shells.

Sand fleas hop, hop, hop.

Great dunes rise up

To dark green forest towers

Of spruce, hemlock, and cedar.

Behind me,

Tow Hill’s ancient volcanic tower

Casts its dark shadow.

At its feet, blow hole sprays

Catch the sun’s rays,

Sparkling for a moment.

Then tidal bore washes over

And out,

Drawing my heart with it

To a far off unknown.

 

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