Poems by Barbara A Meier

Sea Glass

 

The sea is glass today

broken glass sharp, silver shimmerings with latte foam

Khaki green slithering up the strand leaving venom pools

making a milkshake of poison by sticking a blender

into the magic mirror.

Sea Foam

Seafoam tumbling

down the beach like tumbleweeds

crossing highway 4

blowing themselves

out with the friction of sand

disappearing in

the roar of a freight train

waves with gravel fingers

raking the tideline

until the foam builds

piling clumps in the bone-

yard of deadwood left

by storms like Kansas

weeds caught in barbwire fences

Serendipity

 

The tension of salt

mingling in a dance

with fresh water

 

The Rogue into

the Pacific with seagull

beggars, flirting

 

seals, slinking under

waves to hide and seek

while vultures wheel

 

and watch, waiting

for the moment of perfect

Serendipity

 

the osprey losing its

grip on the dog salmon

 

Two Corbies

 

Two corbies perch ‘long

bloody log in a boneyard

of driftwood, dining

on seal pup eyes, rattling white

bones bare in the sea of wind.

Barbara A Meier has spent the last four years living on the Southern Oregon Coast, inspired by the ocean environment surrounding her. She retired from teaching this summer and hopes to find time to travel and write.  She has a Micro Chapbook coming out this summer from Ghost City Press. She has been published in The Poeming Pigeon, TD; LR Catching Fire Anthology and The Fourth River.