poetic pause :: the me. alone. separate from all else.

I think about him from time to time.
Down on the beach.
Fishing.
Standing in the shadow of the pier.
The way he would dart across the water,
dancing lightly on tiptoes to the sound of the surf
and the call of his prey shimmering beneath the waves.

He wasn't afraid to be by himself, but then again, perhaps his kind are lone hunters in the wild. He wasn't afraid of us either, us tourists, us beachcombers, us snappers of photographs. He just moved, graciously through the sea, blinking and undeterred by our gaze.

None of us got too close,
 as if we knew there was a threshold of proximity that we couldn't cross.
So we just watched him.
Out there alone.
Separate from all else.
Darting across the water,
dancing lightly on tiptoes to the sound of the surf
and the call of his prey shimmering beneath the waves.

I think about him from time to time.
As me.
alone.
separate from all else.
down by the pier, my white feathers reflected in the glassy pool of the ocean, sea foam at my feet.
as I dart across the water, dancing lightly on tiptoes to the sound of the surf and the call of my prey beneath the waves.


xxoo