Wind brings the gulls to a hover
and they drop down out of it.
Sand stretches north
and south forever. There are colonies
of hardy bathers
by the lifeguard’s chair, but we
have gone beyond all that,
allowing the waves’ wildness to lure
The broken shell
you find, half-smoothed, is
to our European eyes.
The seals watch us more astutely than
Turning, we find the wind
in our faces, and home is an ocean