you’re not at the beach
because you’re walking on it
you’re only there once you’re lost
in gulls, seashell, wave’s break
when the pelican falls
from the sky with a splash
gulping the cold fish
down your throat
when you’re standing in deep water
studying rippled sand
when someone’s out in a boat
between sky & water
wondering which direction
is upside down
Bowlaway [excerpt]
by Elizabeth McCracken
he would walk . . . until he had walked so far he was not himself, not a self, but joined to the world
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