He could not
feel bad here
lying under
the good stars.

The lighthouse
was just visible
& tall waves
knew grey rock.

He recalled
other beaches,
summers & the taste
of strawberries.

The guitar of
wind kissed skin
& hair as nightbirds
made love to
quivering shoreline.

The tide had turned.
Mariners considered
new catches & dreamt
once more of death
by drowning.

The promise of
sky & sea were
never more obvious.

(previously published here October 15, 2012)


About 150 people live on Runde Island, Norway, along with about 500,000 birds.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply