Poetry: South Beach

South Beach Eagle King
Often, we would walk South Beach together
That long large-pebbled beach
along the Salish Sea
on the island’s west side
Short salt water waves
lap up against the shore there,
constant rhythm set by the wind,
like a slow rock tumbler
sifting for agates
Brown cliffs of San Juan 
barely hold a road on top itself
Large crumbles of dirt clots
lay at its feet predicting its fate
Hard soles are needed to walk this beach
The stones just large enough to 
aggravate the arches as you walk,
Hamstrings pull heavy with each step
Once in a while,
whenever it wants to,
a large eagle can be found 
perched on beach wood
He owns that beach and all who pass
His royal brow gives no doubt
“This is my favorite Beach”, you tell me one foggy morning
We tried again to walk together
I walked ’till I reached the Eagle King, 
you continued alone into the mist
Mystery always favored over familiar
I sit and watch you heavy step away
Alone you go into the fog
leaving me to sit with the eagle
You continue until a low cloud
consumes you from my sight
I imagine you reach the end
where the cliffs give way to the shore
and the landscape bends around
to the fields at Cattlepoint
I saw you in my mind
alone and happy with your thoughts 
and the sea
I sit and watch
You walk and ponder
A year later
You sat and watched 
as I walked off the island
You let me go that year
just like I let you walk the beach alone…

My Beach Shoes 2010

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