Montauk

Image from jbigora via pixabay

Soft and damp, the
emptiness stretches, silent,
glistening with gold that slips brightly
between the darkening grey and the muted waves as they
murmur, creeping.

Ticking lace of pebbles and shells
turning beneath rolling curls; searching
fingers stretch and push, reach up
to slide, slipping down.

Wind, gathering deep in sightless sky,
salt-flecked and bruised by
stinging slap, grappling of
verge against the building
roar of crashing giants, thundering
past crest of tide, hands
climbing strength, resistance
matched, met, leading,
following
giving way
flowing down
shaped and shaping
surge-swollen, insistent, until
emptying upon the shore,
wild,
unbroken,
the sand
receives.