Gray fog billows ashore, forms
opaque backdrop to brittle thorns,
erases volcanic boulders.
With Salvador Dali mustache,
a dried thistle, denuded of downy seed,
restrains a honey bee, overlooks ocean.
Among mustard, wild radish,
still-green progeny burrs erupt
bright purple flowers.
Brambles provide barbed cover
for scrambling squirrels,
I wander Moonstone Beach,
revisit our favorite haunts.
Your ghost clings like prickly nettles.
By Jennifer Lagier
Jennifer Lagier has published ten books and in literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, co-edits the Homestead Review, helps coordinate monthly Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Forthcoming books: Harbingers (Blue Light Press), Scene of the Crime (Evening Street Press), Camille Abroad (FutureCycle). Click here to visit her website. Photo by the author.
Photo by the author