Shopping center, school; inch over freeway;
Veer with the creek that notches the pale clay
Headlands and I am at the place at last.
The shoreline hereabouts runs east and west.
Clear days there's islands to be seen, any day
Sky, sand, waves, light, birds, dogs, people. I'd say
Late in the day in winter is when it's best.
Down the long, slant beach, and the wave-tips catch
The sun's low fi re, the wet sand's all red light,
The shorebirds eat red light -- and all goes gray
The moment you turn back the other way,
Cliff s, sea, and sky a great cave, in dead light;
And the fresh darkness settling, in the stretch.