Perhaps a foot or so beneath the surface
of this beach is water – some the vestige
of the ebbing sea, most seeped from low cliffs
above the sands then imperceptibly
vanishing among the gritty particles.
Suddenly, from below the horizon,
a plume of black smoke emerges – as if,
for a moment, a coal powered steamer
were returning south. An oil rig, no doubt,
is burning off its excess methane
to dissipate into the distant nimbus.
Over a hole dug in the sand the shadow
of a herring gull glides slowly, the bird
briefly imaged in the shallow, tawny pool,
its snowy feathers dulled.
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By David Selzer