The air here weeps,
A fine mist followed by
A downpour of outright insanity.

The moisture helps it
Slip into my bones
On the exhale,
Pausing there to ache
Right to the core.

The horns from the harbored ships
Draw my mind into the water
To dance with the otters,
Sing with the orcas

Until I utterly drip,
Wander the shores
Searching the sand
For treasure and truth,
Knowing each is elusive,
Camouflaged by unworn crusts.

Despite the constant drench,
I feel renewed,
Full of bulbs waiting to blossom,
Another spring tease
Promising escort to summer.

01/23/2011

Author's Note: I love living here!

Posted on 01/24/2011
Copyright © 2026 Alison McKenzie