Dusk deepens the blue heron
stemmed shallows as souls
are ferried to riverbank.
Cairns sky-brushed white
wax blue-gray. Autumn colors
and shapes sink, taken by the current.
Scraps of names tugged from war debris
swirl inside a clutch of leaves
as I walk on
to jetty then shoreline.
Years of erosion striate a bluff,
the tide brings in another rosary of agates.
Each transient flange of rising moon
threaded stone to eye softens
a buoy bell’s tossed clangs.
I driftwood trace a peace symbol in wet sand,
sing vowels of loss
to the brown swirl of undertow.
The ocean is fed broken wings all night.
Author: Charles Thielman
Charles Thielman was raised in South Carolina and later lived in Chicago, before settling in Eugene, Oregon, where he joined an independent bookstore collective. His poems have appeared in Oyez Review, Poetry Salzburg, and other journals. You can see him at a Tsunami Books reading (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-5-G_jaoJY). Charles Thielman now live in Santa Maria, California.