A day at Point Reyes long ago

The gentle ridge hiding the bay from the sea
The slices of light carved by trees from the sky on a contented lane
The well-wrought, whiskered Marin County driver who wished me well as he dropped me at the gate

Sun-lavished buttercups among the quillwort
Fir trees sheltering the more tender flora by my path
The breeze broken only by the clank of a water canister
(Which my brother had fortunately advised me to carry)

And after one breathless crest, the waves against the rocks
Carrying on as if I had never come

All in the pages I penciled
Crinkled to a dry witness by greetings off the ocean
And later posted to a friend in the home so far away
Where perhaps they still crinkle around each other in an attic

That day of unfenced wonder
Before the fields began to wail over their shattered equilibrium
Before the woods gave themselves over to fire

I delicately smoothed a youth into a journal and shut its pages
And traced the blue sky back to the wistful gate

Andy Oram
January 12, 2018

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