I walked to the coast
Down an unpaved path through the woods
And kicked pebbles out of my flip-flops
While humming a song that stuck in my head
Which hadn’t unlodged itself since I left home.
At the beach, I dropped my bag beside the shade
And stood staring out at the flat water
To the nearby islands
And the serpentine coastline
And the innumerable pebble paths I imagined within
The sun freckled my shoulders
And I felt it burn my pale legs.
Soon I awoke,
Not realizing I had slept,
The only indications being the cowlicked hair,
Bright red knees,
And the rising smoke from the opposite shore.
I held my legs close, calf touching thigh,
And watched the thin gray line thicken at the bottom,
Rising until a wind at a certain altitude
Blew it aside into a raincloud of ash
Which, before long, walked over all my coastline paths.
Hours later, planes –Canadians– buzzed overhead
Carrying seawater to their destination until the cloud’s tail tapered away
And I packed up my things
And walked home under the shade
Kicking pebbles from my sandals
Humming that same song
Wondering if I had really woken up.
Sebastian Clarkin 