By Charles Pierre
Children of the shore have no fear
of the Atlantic’s rush to the land
and sudden withdrawal. They have learned
to squat with their backs to the waves,
building their fortress of sand,
with tunnels to let the water in and out,
and turrets flying exotic feathers
and studded with colored stones and shells.
The surf explodes continuously
and washes them in its silver,
their small bodies glistening,
with eyes squinting through the salt
and feet lightly fixed above the tide,
a sure-footed stance on the restless beach
by the sunlit ocean that is always flowing
into and out of their open lives.
EDITOR’S NOTE:
Charles Pierre is a poet who visits Ocean Grove regularly. We have gladly posted his work on Blogfinger whenever he submits a poem. Thank you, Charles. It is a privilege to share your beautiful poems with the people of Ocean Grove.
Here is what he said about “Fortress:” (below)
Hi Paul:
Greetings again from Manhattan. Now that summer is here, and the kids are back on the beach, I thought your readers might enjoy my homage to the fledgling architects and engineers who build those fantastic structures on the shore, using only sand, water, and whatever the tide leaves behind. Here is the poem “Fortress,” from my 2008 collection, Father of Water.
Charles Pierre portrait by Marcella Kerr, 2009. ©
Best wishes,
Charles Pierre
DJANGO REINHARDT “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love.” From the film: “The Aviator”