The Innisfree Poetry Journal

www.innisfreepoetry.org

by C.M. Foltz

Cape Cod                                                     

The tide rolled in, receded out, and slowly rolled again,

            that late, October afternoon.

The sounds of gulls, I heard behind my head,

remained repeating, though my thoughts were loud,

were faint, were loud again,

            that late, October afternoon.

The winds blew southward frigid air

that rolled sands off backs of beach-formed hills,

behind my head, onto my head, this same small place, where gulls

and thoughts and waves came crashing to this point.

And now, again, arrived,

            this late, October afternoon,

I hear the sounds of winds and gulls, of thoughts and waves

replacing what I knew with newer memories, but sand

still strikes me on my head, and gulls still sound behind my head,

so faint, so loud, and faint again,

            this late, October afternoon.