Thought

lucent, deliberate curtains in Cape Cod after-rain rhythmically stirring

like a reluctant bridal courtesy

to the strapping vigor of the seashore winds

of yesterday’s glistening uninhabited early morning coastline

that found us for an instant an undisturbed family

of storied history and unbounded future

as insignificant as the gradually warming granules of once proud-stone

maybe mountain

yet as whole and all-there-is as the ceaseless ocean ballet itself

a graceful and potent opus

as formless and original as the hysterical wave-leaping child’s imaginative steps

as structured and instinctual as the simplest creatures that crawled from its belly

to eventually develop the great works collecting dust on vacation house shelves

because they can’t compete with breeze shadows.