Earthen Fantasy

 

I walk Bellingham’s Boardwalk frequently

and only once felt fear.

 

Winter gust so strong

I brace, prepare to grab

a railing or try to fall.

 

What is permanence?

 

I think we are

more than specs

twirling in space

on an earthen globe

whirling with the sound

of our dancing planetary partners.

 

Our center, a ball of flames

warms us to the narrow frequency

of what we call life but would

cremate hope if we got too close.

 

Bellingham Bay beckons

me to its grey green void

with dark murky innards that

foam with a lust its waves

cannot hide.

 

A gust, invisible guest

growls and roars.

 

Yet I am surprised when it

pushes me with such force

that just for a moment I lose

faith in gravity.

 

And when it’s gone

I quickly forgot

that all that I know

is an earthen fantasy.