A Little Quiet Time
Out in Morro Bay, the rock seems to itch
With birds,and the sea scratches it. White sea,
White birds, gray fog. And along the ridgeline
The sun, behind us -- always -- breaks through.
Here, it’s fifty and the tent’s soaked with dew.
My cheap sleeping bag has molded to my spine.
The sea birds, white shells, the waves, and now me,
My mind so mute I can’t tell which from which.
It might help to know the geography
of the area. The coast there is rocky with a large boulder
out in the bay. The Pacific is cold and the marine layer
of clouds almost ever-present. While just beyond reach
the sun shines on the ridge of hills about a mile away.