Cannon Beach

Like giant white fists

the waves come

pushing up against the shore

offering their handsful of kelp

and silky foam,

to the white beach.

Slowly they pull back

leaving the sand

warm, soft, and moist

like a baby seal.

Mist sprays the

jagged ocean rock

where I sit watching the sunset,

and touches my face

with infant fingers.

How tender and at the same time cruel

the ocean can be.

Thrashing water

pounds against the rocks

slamming starfish into the tide pools.

Once majestic castles

abandoned on the beach,

wash away.

An array of colors -

pink, purple, and orange -

hug the horizon,

and strain the light,

the ocean becoming whispers

for the drifting sun.

Soon I will retreat, like the waves,

into the dark.