We sit alone and watch the waves.
We see the working of the wind;
it flips the waves and whips them back,
throws their spume into the air,
sends the wayward, scattered spray
flying up into the air.
We stare at silken waves of glass
which rise and fall,
rise and fall and break and shatter,
washed ashore as foaming surf.
We hear the waves,
hear their crashing and their dying,
lapping waves that lick the land
and then withdraw,
leaving rainbowed iridescence
on the surface of the sand.
We drink the waves.
***
We walk the sand down to the shore
and feel the heat beat on our soles.
We let the waves wash on our feet
and feel the cold between our toes.
We find the rocks, the rounded rocks,
the worn and smooth and rounded rocks.
We pick them up and close our hands
around the hard and glassy stones.
We stroke the cool, the satin stones.
We eat the stones.
***
We watch the sun
as it is setting in the west.
We see it sink below the waves,
watch the yellow go to orange go to red,
see the colors disappear into the sea
and seem to die,
then flare again and fill the sky,
fade again and finally die.
We gulp the sun.
***
We build a bonfire on the beach.
When darkness falls, we light the blaze
and watch its fervid flames rise high,
feel the heat upon our faces,
see the fitful fire fall,
turn the dwindling driftwood over,
rub its throbbing underbelly,
loose the glowing, pulsing embers,
see vermilion sparks ascending,
watch them wafting to the heavens,
quickly flickering and dying,
ever-dying in their flight.
We smoke the fire.
***
We see the stars.
We stretch our bodies on the sand
and put our hands behind our heads
and lie there staring into space,
watching ancient constellations
wheeling slowly in the sky
and the Milky Way above us
softly streaking black with white
across the belly of the night.
We swallow stars.
***
About the Author:
Peter Bergquist is a native of Los Angeles with a BA in English from Princeton University and an MFA in Creative Writing (Poetry) from Antioch University Los Angeles. He worked for many years in the Hollywood film industry, primarily in production. He is married with two daughters and is currently teaching English in the Los Angeles Unified School District. His poems have been published in The New Verse News, The Chickasaw Plum and On the Outskirts: Poems of Disability.