Sea Scum

After the big storm, now low tide,

dingy brown froth still lays hurled

high

onto the boulder retaining wall.

Linear mounds of lather litter the beach.

Foam trains surf northward at great speed on wet sand.

A gust

of wind

decapitates a

chunk of

fluff

It tumbles,

tumbleweed-fashion,

at the edge of the sea

Like us

depositing bits of ourselves each time we touch down

Diminishing in size

from cotton candy to

party balloon to

whiffle ball to

dust bunny to

ash

Relinquishing ourselves

at the brink

Back

into

the

moist

earth.

Andrine de la Rocha

posted 12/1/2010