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.
