I climbed down through coastal scrub
Sandstone nub and turkey scratch,
Purposefully counted into the hundreds
And then became distracted for caution
And for possible misstep. On safe arrival
The foreshore held its mysteries
Within wash and cliff and ancient sands,
I did not inquire or pause to study, yet
committed and turned again to climb
knowing afore each rise I would by needs,
descend
Martinos © 2018
Rarely as I recall, in truth,
Did she speak expansively of herself
Or tell us stories of her young adventure
She reserved the detail and the admiration for others,
Others who were remote to me, in interest and in caring,
I never knew, and always assumed she thought them
more worthy or entertaining or greater than herself
And now I wish I’d asked her
And told her this was for me
Furthest from the truth
Martinos @ 2018
The fisherman’s mate
Left by the road
Twenty feet back onto the verge
Waited patiently awatch in the shade
Waited adjacent to where
the dinghy and trailer were parked
One side chocked up
One wheel waiting for its mate
Martinos © 2018
You have outstretched arms
You are on the beach
You are receiving the towel that
will wipe the sting of salt and glare away
You are relieved in the moment this occurs
And look back to the waves that have just released you
Later that day after bathing
You recall the moment
Your skin
Your nature
And what has washed away
Martinos © 2018
in the sea
of night
each star
a flood
of light,
the milky way
a riptide
of delight
Martinos © 2018