I pick three bleached pebbles with thin blue veins
and array them, invoking the diamond net of stars.
My mind in a ductile reach attaches to shapes
as the loud tongue of impermanence lashes the shore,
spitting out broken shells, licking clean sandpiper footprints.
Came here just a week ago, rejoicing with friend and wife.
Now enthroned alone on a layered disc of metamorphic rock,
I survey creation with a mind as calm as the tide-pool
enclosed, near my foot, in its own web of interdependence -
sea anemones and slivery fish - still and ready to spring.