after Ana Prundaru’s photograph, Kamakura Beach in Japan
This is pulling out from a different coast the tides cool a
slick back retreating by now winds have settled skin is
tight with heat and salt by now light gleaning across surfaces
will start to find pattern how quickly it scatters to multiply you
will try to track it I have tried to track this tried
to reach out my hand and hold it all in place I’d like to imagine
these deep rooted swells that carried swift moving bodies all day will
eventually toss themselves on the North Shore on the reefs of Ho`okipa wash
up between drying sea turtles with laced white tumors that
distances can be measured by the pathways of breakers I’d like to
imagine I could sit with the throb of the sea chant up the sun
but on open swept plains thunderstorming of trains is the only
fury I can chart here I can track fine ash over drought dried
gold coaxing ground I can track evening that does not fall into order
the last sun will set alpineglow and for a moment I can call it enough I
can find sleet waves in the river oil backed crows do it by hanging the prairie
on low sections of sky on the coast rain on pavement doesn’t raise up the
deep wet of the Pacific it is the deep wet along the
razored line of tide dusk will be carried out last of the sun
will fold to glassed undercurrent boats will be moored the
people will rise up from the shore will free their belongings of sand
silent seep of returning back into indentations evening out I
imagine the shadows stop growing but from here I can’t see it.
Sierra Jacob is an M.F.A. candidate at the University of Montana, where she received the Richard Hugo Memorial Scholarship for poetry. Her poetry has appeared and is forthcoming in Sonora Review, Yemassee, The Louisville Review, Compose, Cream City Review, Hawai`i Pacific Review, Pacifica Literary Review, Pretty Owl Poetry, among others. She was born and raised in Ha`iku, Hawai`i.
Image: Kamakura Beach in Japan from Wiki Commons
Pine Hills Review 