Soarise on the Beach

Wendy Howe



      stagger the air,

              a roof of birds

covering  the beach


               while the sea rolls in

clothed in the blue fade

of  her jeans and jacket.


She watches from the pier

with her shadow underscoring

stray coins

               and bottle caps.


A girl

               grown so thin,

her two thighs would form

                 the slender log


of driftwood  lying

near the sand dune, the bone work

                of  O’keeffe,


and  the  blond hair

blown against her face — wings

folded in

             after the landing,

             the dark escape 

                      from somewhere


 with too many walls. For the moment,

 she wants to slip

                under  their roof and belong —


drink from the wave, its aimless freedom,

and filter the salt, desalinate


                what makes her heal or preserve

                any wisdom

                      that would bring her home. 



the shore birds scatter, the sun


                on the horizon,


and she listens to water

wash  against the scrub board

               of old pilings.


 A familiar

 rhythm near dusk, a sad

              folksong of the tides.





Wendy Howe is an English teacher and freelance writer who lives in Southern California. Her poetry reflects her interest in myth, diverse landscapes, and ancient cultures. Over the years, she has been published in an assortment of journals both online and in print. Among them: Silver Blade Magazine, Gingerbread House Lit Magazine, Not One Of Us, Mirror Dance, Strange Horizons, Witches & Pagans Magazine, Goblin Fruit, Mythic Delirium, Eternal Haunted Summer, Corvid Queen, Liminality, The Poetry Salzburg Review and Eye To The Telescope. Her most recent work will be forthcoming in Carmina Magazine and The Copper Field Review later this year.