In their raincoats,

children run through the gray sea monsters.

Tired parents give gentle chase. 

In the air they leave behind,

ghosts linger;

the salt air carries their whispers.

Watching over the ocean,

the day sinking into golden sleep,

I imagine myself alone.

Blood clogged soil churns underfoot.

The grass hums with the old ways

and I hear spells in the seagulls’ cries. 

The secrets of the stone

fit in the ridges of my shoes. 

I carry them with me for days.