Hapuku Beach
There’s not
a sharp edge
in sight,
a conveyor belt
of waves, frothy
working water,
levering
and lifting
the close
crowd of rocks,
their clacking
the sound
of attrition,
grain by grain
building the black
sand beach,
the will
of the waves
implacable, the force
of millennia behind each.
Abner Oakes taught middle and high school English, plays ice hockey and drinks mezcal, and has had poems published in Potomac Review, Maryland Poetry Review, The Baltimore Review, and Thimble Literary Magazine. He lives in the Washington, DC area.
See more of Abner's work in 14.1 and 14.1