The Japanese Current
Flows through my veins-
Father of undertow
Feeder of the clam beds
Grinding away
The smooth edges
Of Summer and Autumn

Stranger to Southern beaches
The current creates
Weather of it’s own
And plays rough at it’s mildest.

I watch as the tow
Sweeps away my sandy footing.
How fast I can move
Is how fast I survive.

Don’t turn your back
On the Japanese Current
Mercy isn’t floating in that tide
And it will knock you down.

You can wade into the freezing waves
But only a fool would try to swim.
Nothing for Michael Phelps here
Unless he excels with a shovel.

From little motor court cabins
With linoleum floors
And sand in the corners
We’d pile out in the dark

At four A.M. low tides
Slender shovels in our hands
We braved the gales
That would be banned in Maui
Gifting us with glorious misery.

Wind whipping scarves and hair
And sneaking through the jackets
That didn’t really shield us
From the sideways blowing rain
That couldn’t wash away our smiles.


We’d stomp the sand and look for bubbles
Dig for all we’re worth - plunge a hand
Into the hole collapsing
To ***** for the illusive razor clam -
Treasure of the Northwest beaches.

Special treat for seafood lovers
Fried, or ground or cooked in stew
They seemed like sliced up innertubes to me
My fun was in the finding and the digging
The cleaning was my dad, the frying was my mom
And not eating them was me.

LONG BEACH WASHINGTON

World’s longest unbroken sandy beach
Twenty-eight miles of solid sand
Bring your car, ride your horse or bike
Cut christies in the hard packed sand.
Splash along the edges of the waves
Race with no red lights behind you.

Just watch the turning of the tide
Or boys with jeeps will have to pull you out
(Impossibly heroic idols of
My childhood beach adventures.)

And yet sometimes the sun came out-
Oh rarest gift from Mother Nature
We wandered below the kite filled skies
And sandy castle festivals.

We hid both sorrows and often and joys
And sometime hanky panky
Among the sea grass covered hillocks
That roll like the boil of a bubbling kettle
Between the sand and civilization.

It’s still there, almost unmarred
By glitzy boardwalks and sunglass shacks
Just as I remember it, what seems an eon later
Familiar things at every turn
Small thing tell me that my world abides
And I’m not really home until I’m there.
ljm