Marilyn Higginson, Flooded Swale, Oil on Wrapped Canvas
Doppler
This is how I can tell the Earth rotates:
A walk along a stone ledge
on the westernmost edge
of an impulsive Pacific
in summer sun
captured by spindrift
while squeaks of kids
on paddleboards
permeate the air as I approach
rugged headland Lovers Point
and pan Monterey Bay
watching a fog bank pour
in from offshore
and cross land at distant
Marina Beach,
then lift hefty clouds
over to Salinas flatlands
as I watch ocean water morph
from royal blue to aquamarine
where sailboats circle
in tattered winds.
______________________
Thomas Piekarski
Review by Corinne Bailey
What a lush, atmospheric poem! The reader is right there with you as you scan the sea and land with horizon eyes. The language is heady. Love: “where sailboats circle in tattered winds.” Curious about the description of the Pacific as “impulsive.” I like the free flowing feel, and how you capture the ever-changing colors. I might have added a couple more commas, but the line breaks serve as natural pauses. This is a tightly woven piece!