Resurrection Bay
On blue-black beach the waves abate
and toss about the chips of slate
to wear the ragged edges round
ensuring skipping stones abound.
The swirling mist, the diamond drops
race up the beach with frequent stops
to put a shine on stoic stone
and soak this hiker to the bone.
There are those who rue a day
of mist on Resurrection Bay
when Sol, he is a shaded lamp
and all is quiet, subtle, damp.
But rain that makes the trail so slick
will leave the mosses mattress thick,
help the spruce grow stong and tall,
give substance to the waterfall.
The dancing mist has no regard
for angry rock, sharp and hard,
and in a soft and cool embrace
will smooth a wrinkle from a face.
This foggy day confirms belief
all need not be in sharp relief!
why the hurry? Find a way
appreciate this gentle day.
Copyright © Wayne Sapp | Year Posted 2010
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