strip along the bay,
eyes focused on the distance
without absorbing sight.
The silence of the day
amplified the murmur
of my mind’s mêlée
as I walked along the unfamiliar.
Central Valley effluence
moved with the flotsam and fray
as I drifted from sense
and the strip along the East Bay,
surged toward the flight
pattern of seagulls enacting their belligerent dance:
Slice through skies, glide,
eyes focused on the distance
beyond the infinite pier
of weathered planks lingering over blue-gray.
Push against the cutting wind. Tear
without absorbing sight.
I walked with purpose: endure,
defy the rumored void until I find my way
to some other state. Disintegrating into the bay, a fence
returned me shoreward into the quiet.
I walked along.
