II.

Man have I missed

the Oregon coast

Bathing suits and puffy coats

fishing boats and fleece, all styles of

sporting hats with flannel and shorts

or sandals, pant legs rolled up

Watchers, strollers, people play catch

men fish, women fish, women

without bras wear t-shirts

Friendly smiles float around over

fine crystal, khaki, grey and tan blended sand

A man in a wheelchair, 3 dogs, 7

driftwood shelters within sight

Charred remnants of bonfires skattered, the

smell of bonfire still fragrant

Seals across the bay

The bay

as the tide flows in

Many-windowed houses sit like block play shapes

along the shore, they peek out

from the cedars and pines and

Seagulls call above and many more

lounge on the spit opposite in a living photograph of

deep blue ocean

dark green forest

grey feathers, white feathers

yellowing sea foam

cream-colored grasses that

spike up through the tan sand.

I drink it all in through breaths of foggy mist.

By Madeleine Brink