June morning, along the Pacific

Last night,

I told myself,

I am going to the beach.

Six o’clock at the beach

the ocean, the sky and the horizon are the same

comforting gray

mist covers all things

the usual suspects are all here-

• the surfers, the paddlers, the divers
• the walkers — with dogs and without
• the coffee drinkers,
• the smartphone watchers
• the beachcombers
• the old woman wading out into the waters
• the large bodied open ocean swimmers
• the folks holding their stuff on the shore
• the crayfish stranded on the shore, ready to breathe their last

And I walk, just walk

taking it all in,

just in case I don’t ever see it again

in my mind’s eye, I can play it back

again and again.