Drink the sea salty. Taste
the crash and crush of ten thousand shimmering
droplets exploding up from each rock
to a two-second diamond mist.
Dance to the sea’s call. Listen
to deep thunder rumble, to each
cormorant cry and eagle sneer at your
Startle a bathing beaver. See it glare at you
from washing paws before it dashes down
between the rocks and salt
out of sight.
Carry a starfish. Feel spiny scale
stubs rub your finger. Grab hard
to barnacles and regret it.
Gag after a boot is lifted from
muck. Smell the loamy stink
mixed with sun-rotted seaweed
and bird shit, but imagine
how much you’ll miss it.