there’s a barnacle scar
deeply ingrained
on the basalt stack
at mark thirty two
whispering summer winds
scented oil
cotton and roe
drift
as waves brush
and shape
the sandstone shore

the briny air
and lost erratic
set a tone to this
pollyanna portrait
it's andrews undulations
and gifted benches
its concessions
and traces of the barry burn
its sculpted driftwood
and sanko lines
make this picture
almost perfect

children play
as venom spews
from the caterwaul pair
those odd looking mates
casting smiles
with arrested despair
settling shots
swiping bugs
dipping and darting
as photo men
and muscles
and long neck seabirds
make their turn

the hunched hoody
and his sorted sidekick
get their fill
(of moss and rubble ~ chubby and kelp)
nice to meet your acquaintance
the pho man would say
an odd drop
and ironic turn
from those horrific corners
of timeless desperation
down by cannon bridge

harbor seals
and carriage horse
are fronted by
raven shade
jolly tides pause
in quiet bays
(with curious looters
and *** pickers)
sand merchants
and field totems
all streamed by the light

cirrus strands
blanket the
outer edge
hovering craft
and shimmering willows
bolt the evening frame
blood orange
and tethered
with a filtered glare
bottle-nose dolphins
and seabirds
(and shifting tides)
are all settling in
for the long night stay

Kindred, we converse

Over a meal

Your words, warm,

A broth to fill my belly

And the variegated jetsam

Jests

Flotsam of our earthly

Experiences

So many a clumsy lessons

Learned

The times we recollect with laughter

Kindred you give hope

And how my wisdom swells

Not so alone

In the confidence of your smile

While a confidant

With the eloquence of intelligent

Sentiments  

Just right

Not too cold

Your shoulders to lean on,

Not too hot

You're never angry to dismiss

And will understand

As I do now

The danger is

To drown alone

In a life without light

Remiss of truth,

I long eschewed on this ...

But you fill me up, my Pho, my kindred

Spirit

With goodness

A Dearest friend indeed

A pho no less in times of need

Again next lunch date

We'll shoot the breeze.