Black Beach
Janet Belding
This hazy place of hazy sun
infusing a flat shallow sea,
without boats in the distance,
the updraft of parasails,
swimmers, or one of our dogs off-leash,
Just ankle-depth water with interlocking currents
The dark gray veins of sand tell me where I am
We would come here while there were still adventures,
In blistering heat, we followed railroad tracks
skirting Great Marsh, clotted with briars and green head flies.
Shoes came off across the unbroken beach
Your illness was just beginning
I will not be here more than a few seconds of REM
But you know that and I know that
And I don’t see you.
The sun patches through the horizon
A thin line of sapphire glittering
Heaven on earth
Surprisingly without grief.
Janet Belding
Janet Belding lives and writes on Cape Cod. She finds the coastal environment to be an inspiring catalyst for her work. She is a nature-lover, gardener, and enjoys walks in the woods with her dogs. She has been published in “Sky Island Journal," and "LEON Literary Review."