by JEANNIE HAUGHTON
Briny the air
tanging the tongue misting the eyes
under sombre skies the stones
on the waterline roll-rest-roll-rest-roll-rest
hightide treasures pocketed
parched-pale ’til wave-slapped
a palmed pebble is magically reborn
recalling nurimono
that other sheen in that other place
where the sun dips low
this time of year
airborne gull cries pierce
cherry blossom doldrums –
still startling
her flight all those years ago
the silent spill of
a single tear